Blood or Tears
by redroses100
Summary: Bilbo is already stressed enough, being a Hobbit on an adventure is a difficult thing! But the Dwarves are not making it any easier for the poor guy! Bilbo begins using a dangerous method to keep himself together, but how long can he keep his secret to himself? M for self-injury and lots of angst.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: This is an AU! Which means that some parts will differ from the movie plot line. I also use Bookverse in some places. If something does not go according to the movie, it is because I have changed it. As well, this fic is rated M for Self Injury. I hope you enjoy this, it certainly took my feels for a ride. _

OOOOO

Bilbo sniffled and sobbed as quietly as he could. His face was buried in his arms and his knees were crushed to his chest, but his cries still sounded so loud to his own ears. He just hoped that he had managed to stumble far enough away from the company, he hoped they wouldn't hear his pathetic sniveling. Yavanna only knew how they would tease him if they ever saw him crying. They already said the worst things about him, if they saw him like this...it would be terrible.

They had been traveling for a two weeks now. The Shire was long behind them, and the wilderness was strange to Bilbo. But he had been trying his best to keep up with the company. He tried to be optimistic, even if he found himself talking about Bag End a lot. He tried to do what little he could, like gathering fire wood and helping Bombur cook. He tried to make himself less of a burden on the company. But apparently everything he did only made them hate him more. And they had no reservations about voicing their hatred.

Why just tonight they had taken delight in tearing him down. He had simply been trying to understand the Dwarves better. He asked a simple question about why Dwarves braided their hair. And suddenly they were all looking at him as though he were the spawn of an orc. When Thorin spoke, in that cold accusing voice, and told him that Dwarves did not share secrets of their society with outsiders, he had felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. Of course the Dwarves saw him as an outsider, he should have known that they would. So why did it hurt so much?

He had been ready to apologize and forget the incident, but then Fili and Kili and murmured something about prying Hobbits and how they thought they could ask any question they wanted. The rest of the company snickered and saw fit to join in with the two. And then the insults had started. Elf-Ear and Furry-Foot and Large-Belly among them. And while they were childish insults, they still stung when coupled with chortles about how a stupid Hobbit could never understand the ways of Dwarves. Bilbo would never be one of them.

Bilbo had bore all the name calling and glares and snickers for almost an hour before Bombur had produced dinner and they had called off the attack. For the moment. Bilbo had fled then. He wasn't hungry, and no one was paying him any attention, so he ran off into the woods surrounding them and didn't stop running until the boisterous laughs of the Dwarves faded into light noises in the distance. And then he had crumpled in on himself and started to cry. It was ridiculous really. He was an adult Hobbit and he shouldn't be crying! He hadn't cried since his mother died. But right now, he just couldn't stop.

"Hobbit." Bilbo jumped and looked up in horror to find Thorin Oakenshield standing in front of him, glaring down at him like one would look at a bug. Thorin glanced over him briefly before pulling something out of his pocket and tossing it at Bilbo's feet. "If you're going to run off by yourself to cry like a child, at least arm yourself." Thorin spoke coldly before turning and heading back towards the camp. Bilbo waited until he was out of view before collapsing into a fresh bout of tears. Great! As if Thorin didn't already have a low enough opinion of him. It just had to be the future King Under the Mountain who saw him in tears!

Bilbo picked up the knife and briefly admired the craftsmanship of it. He ran his thumb along the edge of the blade to test its sharpness, gasping when it cut through his skin with no resistance. He popped his thumb into his mouth, cringing at the bitter taste of blood. A rush of endorphins raced through his system in response to pain, and Bilbo sagged further into himself. As he stared at his thumb, he had a small realization. He wasn't crying anymore. In fact, he wasn't thinking of the Dwarves at all as he dealt with his small wound.

Long ago he had heard of a Hobbit lass who lost both her parents and three of her brothers after they went out on he river in a rickety boat. The lass was so upset that she started making cuts on her arms and legs as a way to cope with the loss. And while Bilbo hadn't lost anyone for a long time, he did certainly feel emotionally compromised. He pulled his left sleeve up to his elbow and looked at his pale skin.

He curiously dragged the knife over his arm, with just enough pressure to open skin and bring forth a thin line of blood. More endorphins rushed his system and he let out a sigh. He could certainly understand what that Hobbit lass had been trying to achieve by self injuring. In fact, he was already starting to feel better about what happened tonight. His mind brought up other incidents like the one tonight and he frowned again. He made another, deeper cut, next to the first and it was like relieving a heavy weight off his shoulders. Bilbo made two more cuts, each deeper than the last as he built up a slow tolerance. He stared at the blood lazily dribbling down his arm and instead of feeling disgusted, he felt..._light_.

Bilbo snapped out of it when a particularly loud cheer from the camp broke through his thoughts. He shook his head lightly and checked all his pockets for something to staunch the blood. All he found was the disgusting cloth Bofur had given him that first day, but it would have to do. He applied pressure to the four lines until they stopped bleeding, and then he pulled his sleeve down and stood from the ground. He stumbled back to camp with the cloth hidden back in his pocket, and the knife in his other pocket. The Dwarves didn't have to know about this. They never needed to know.

OOOOO

Rivendell was beautiful! It was ethereal and royal and comforting. Especially after facing three trolls and an orc pack. The Dwarves didn't see it that way though. In fact, Bilbo didn't think they saw it as anything but another troll cave. The only reason they were still there was because Lord Elrond had offered them food. But once again, Bilbo wasn't hungry.

He knew the company was mad at him again. For getting caught by the trolls, twice, as well as for the appalling lies he fed the trolls in order to buy them time. At least the Dwarves saw fit to realize that he was in fact only saying those things to save their lives, but that didn't make them any less angry with him. Their calls from earlier of 'traitor' and 'miserable Hobbit' still rang in his ears as he slipped away from the dinner tables and started walking throughout the halls.

The Elves he passed were kind, smiling at him and one even bowed shortly before walking on. They were nothing like the loud, easily offended Dwarves that he was traveling with. He had half a mind to just stay in Rivendell. He was sure he wouldn't be missed, though he couldn't imagine they would be happy about him breaking his contract. Bilbo shrugged and continued walking. He was looking for a private room, but anywhere quiet and empty would do. His blood itched beneath his skin, begging him to let it free.

He had started cutting himself regularly. At first it was just supposed to be when he felt bad. When the Dwarves made him feel low. But after the third incident, Bilbo knew he needed the relief of his knife more often if he was going to survive this journey. Every night he scampered off away from the company. If they noticed his nightly disappearance, none of them said anything. And he was always very careful, making sure no one followed him or could see him. Especially Thorin. The Dwarf King had a way of popping up out of no where.

Bilbo wandered into the gardens, quickly finding a small bench that was surrounded by hedges and secluded enough that he would not be disturbed. He looked around thoroughly before rolling up his right sleeve. His left arm was pretty savaged, and so he had moved to his right arm a few nights ago. It was more difficult for him, since he was right handed, but in the end he still got that rush of relief and a moment of peace where he didn't have to think of the Dwarves, or anything, beyond the knife and his blood.

He cut three lines eagerly, feeling the tension drain from his body after the initial tightening of his muscles. He made two more and sighed, a small smile settling on his lips. The now completely red rag, that he always kept nearby, pressed into the lines and absorbed the new crimson addition to its growing coat. He really needed to wash it before he left Rivendell. He'd have to be discreet about it though. After the bleeding stopped he rolled down his sleeve, stashed away his knife and rag, and stood to keep strolling.

He was just walking back into the halls from the garden when Elrond and Gandalf appeared at the end of the hallway, being followed by Thorin and Balin.

"Bilbo, lad! Come with us." Gandalf smiled warmly, putting his hand on Bilbo's shoulder to lead him along.

"G-Gandalf I d-don't think I'm w-welcome." Bilbo stuttered, trying not to see the glare Thorin sent him.

"Nonsense Bilbo, you're an important member of this company. You should be privy to this conversation." Gandalf insisted, squeezing his shoulder lightly. Lord Elrond looked down at Bilbo with eyes that Bilbo was afraid could see far too much. He was nervous around the Lord of the Homely Home, for more than one reason. Elrond was magnificent and very tall, but he also seemed to see right through Bilbo. More importantly, sometimes it felt like he could see right through his sleeves and to the cuts decorating most of his arms.

Bilbo was only half listening to the ensuing conversation. They were talking about the map Thorin had, and the hidden answer to opening the secret door, and at some point they started walking again. His attention was caught by the glowing runes that appeared on the map after Elrond placed it in a very special spot in the light of the moon. But then he returned to his own inner musing. If Elrond did know about his habit of self injury, would he tell anyone? Yavanna forbid, would he tell Gandalf? Or even worse, Thorin?

"There are some who would not deem it wise." Bilbo heard Lord Elrond telling Thorin, who could only glower at the Elf as he took the map back.

"Who do you mean?" Gandalf asked with a note of nervousness in his tone.

"You are not the only Guardian to watch over Middle Earth." Elrond replied cryptically and turned to walk away. "I would like to have a word with Master Baggins, if I may." He said over his shoulder before he could disappear. Bilbo felt his heart jump to his throat. So this was it. He did know. Gandalf, Thorin, and Balin stared at him for a long moment before he cleared his throat and held his head high. He followed after their host, his heart pounding heavily with every step. "You are Belladonna Took's son, are you not?" Elrond asked suddenly as they walked. Bilbo jumped a bit in surprise, but nodded.

"You knew my mother?" He asked nervously.

"Only for a short amount of time. When Gandalf brought her to Rivendell, it was a busy time for me. But the times I managed to sit and talk with her, I found to be very pleasant." He smiled lightly, as though he was remembering it.

"She spoke fondly of you as well. Of all of Rivendell." Bilbo told him, earning another small warm smile. Elrond led him through the halls and to a room filled with bottles and jars of various color and size filling every nook and cranny. He searched through them for a few moments before picking up a small, wooden, and circular jar and holding it out for Bilbo.

"Lord Elrond?" Bilbo asked anxiously, but took the container anyways.

"The ointment will stave off infection. I do not imagine they are very deep, but on a journey such as yours, any manner of dirt or disgusting substance could poison even the smallest wound." He said with a knowing look. Bilbo felt all the blood drain from his face. "Do not fear little one, it is not my place to tell anyone of your injuries. Though I cannot say I approve of such a tactic." He stated, quirking an eyebrow.

"I doubt anyone would approve. I imagine mother is rolling in her grave." Bilbo whispered, looking down at the circle in his hands. Elrond put his hand on Bilbo's shoulder and the Hobbit looked up at him.

"If this quest is causing you such pain that you must turn to this, why do you not return home?" He asked, honestly sounding curious.

"I can't go back, I have signed a contract." Bilbo sniffled.

"Surely there is some clause you could quote to break the contract." Elrond supposed. Bilbo shook his head.

"It is my honor as a Baggins that keeps me from breaking the contract. I intend to fulfill my duties, but I cannot bear this journey without my...method." Elrond sighed and nodded.

"I wish you luck Bilbo Baggins." He said honestly and bowed his head. Bilbo bowed at the waist and waited for Elrond to leave before he opened the wooden jar. The ointment was a creamy pink color and had the smell of roses to it. Bilbo couldn't help but smile at the generosity of their host. He replaced the lid and screwed it on tight before putting it in his pocket. He opened the door with a smile still on his lips, only for it to drop immediately when he saw Thorin just outside the door. He was frowning, and his arms were crossed across his chest. Nothing good ever came when he looked like this.

"What did he say to you?" Thorin demanded. Bilbo looked to his left and right only to find they were alone in the hallway. He debated running back into the room and shutting the door until Thorin went away, but he knew the Dwarf Prince would not be so easily ignored.

"He offered me advice regarding herbs. He assumed I was in the company as a healer." Bilbo lied calmly. He did have an extensive knowledge of herbs, so if Thorin put him to the test, he would be able to hold to his lie. But Thorin only quirked an eyebrow.

"That is all?" He asked suspiciously.

"He gave me lotion for when my feet ache." Bilbo patted the round jar in his pocket, and Thorin's eyes flickered to it briefly before returning to Bilbo's face.

"I would not trust the Elf. You should be rid of that lotion." He suggested. "We are leaving soon. I do hope you'll be ready." He sneered slightly as he said it, and then turned and walked away. Bilbo watched him go, a frown on his face, before turning in the opposite direction. He had thought he was fine for the evening, but his emotions were bubbling dangerously. Thorin was so insulting! He was a right git! If Bilbo was going to stand a chance of continuing on with this quest, he was going to need some more rags, and maybe a sharper blade.

OOOOO

Bilbo kept his eyes firmly on the ground of the cave they were staying in. Since leaving Rivendell, things had gone from bad to worse. The Misty Mountains were terrible, and terrifying. As if the thin paths and punishing cold wasn't enough, it had started raining a week into their walk, and it hadn't stopped even three days later. The already dangerous paths were made exceptionally hazardous when they were sopping wet, and Bilbo was surprised they still had all fourteen members of the company present!

And of course, that was not the limit to their perils. Then came the Thunder Battle of the Stone Giants, where Bilbo had seen his life flash before his eyes as he hung off the side of the mountain. He was sure he was dead when Thorin suddenly swung down and hoisted him back up into the Dwarves arms. The future king almost fell as well, but he was dragged back up onto the ledge before he could slip. However, the near death experience was nothing compared to the snarl he received from Thorin after one of the Dwarves said they were afraid he was lost.

"He's been lost ever since he left his home. He should never have come." Thorin had bitterly proclaimed before deciding they needed to find shelter for the night. No one had said anything to Bilbo, and he had kept to himself as well. He was feeling rather wretched. Not only because of what happened, and what Thorin said, but because he hadn't been able to slip off with his knife for days now. His blood felt like it was writhing beneath his skin, and he felt like he was going to burst out in tears. He was usually able to resist the tears, when he was regularly spilling his blood. But without his constant relief, he was feeling much like the cork in a bottle of boiling water. Eventually it would be too much pressure and his composer would shatter.

He decided he could wait no longer. He curled up under his blanket and, when he was sure the other Dwarves were asleep, he quietly yanked his trousers down to his knees and proceeded to cut into the skin of his legs. When he had run out of room on both his arms, he had turned to his legs. He found he liked it, because he could cut deeper and longer. Bilbo felt days of repressed emotions pouring out of him with his blood and he felt his body becoming light again. He made twelve cuts before he felt too spent to continue. He wrapped a strip of cloth around his leg, pulled up his trousers, and then laid down. The stone ground wasn't comfortable, but he was so exhausted now that he _wasn't_ a roiling ball of hurt and indignation. He wouldn't have even noticed the glow of his sword if he hadn't been looking right at it.

"Thorin!" He called, shooting up with his sword in his hand. The Dwarf took one look at the glowing elvish sword and shouted for the company to get up. It was too late in the end. The floor dropped out from beneath them and sent them plummeting down a long shoot and into a waiting basket. Bilbo was just glad he fell on top of Bombur and not under him.

They had no time to recover from the long ride, as they were immediately swarmed by goblins. When Bilbo realized he wasn't being pulled or jostled by any of the creatures, he ducked down and amazingly, was passed over entirely. The goblins went off with their Dwarf prisoners, leaving the lone Hobbit behind. But before Bilbo could plan some kind of heroic rescue, a single goblin ambled along and spotted him. He managed to hold his own for a few moments before he and the goblin lost their balance and both went tumbling over the edge of the bridge and down into the dark abyss.

OOOOO

Bilbo woke up slowly to a red hot headache, and the desire to never move, ever, for the rest of his life. He was sore all over and he briefly wondered how he was even still alive. He was drawn from his musings by the sound of something to his left. He could hardly believe what he was seeing as he watched a terribly emaciated and just plain creepy looking creature slink out of the darkness. It approached the goblin that had fallen with Bilbo and started rejoicing in its find. When the goblin revealed that it was still alive, the little creature went murderous and started bashing its head with a rock. During that little disturbing show, Bilbo couldn't help but notice something small and shiny bouncing out of the creatures bit of clothes and clinking as it fell to the ground.

Bilbo waited until the thing had dragged the goblin far away to come out from his hiding place, amongst a bunch of giant mushrooms. He grabbed his sword and hesitantly approached the shiny thing the creature had lost. It was a ring! He picked it up, admired it briefly, and put it in his pocket for future examination. He then decided to go in the opposite direction of the creature. Better to avoid that all together.

Bilbo walked for the better part of twenty minutes before, by pure luck, he found himself at an exit from the mountain. Just in time too, because he could hear outraged screaming from behind him, that sounded like the creature from earlier. Bilbo could only imagine he had figured out he was missing his ring. Bilbo ran down the mountain side, hoping that the Dwarves were okay and out of the mountain. Sure enough, he caught sight of them ahead. But they sounded angry. At the last minute he hid himself behind the trunk of a tree and listened.

"Who knows where the Hobbit is? I told you I wasn't going to be responsible for his fate!" Thorin was yelling at Gandalf, even thought the wizard looked about a second from strangling the Dwarf.

"We should go back. Bilbo is virtually helpless. He probably needs our help." Fili proposed, and Bilbo felt more insulted than anything.

"He's delayed us enough. We cannot afford to go back for him." Thorin argued.

"But he's our Burglar! He's a member of the company!" Ori yelled, being shushed lightly by his brothers.

"That's enough! We continue on! If the Halfling is alive, he will catch up with us." Thorin barked, and no one looked like they wanted to argue with him. They all looked exhausted. Bilbo sniffled, accidentally loudly, and all their attentions focused in on the tree he was standing behind. Bilbo could feel their gazes, waiting for whoever was hiding to come forth, but he couldn't will himself to move. Thorin was so ready to abandon him. The _entire_ _company_ was so ready to leave him behind, just because Thorin said so. It was too much, and he knew he was going to cry.

He saw Gandalf out of the corner of his eyes, and heard the wizard sigh in relief. But when he tried to put his hand on Bilbo's shoulder, the Hobbit jerked away, into the line of sight of the Dwarves. Fili and Kili and Ori looked glad to see him, and the others at least had the decency to look ashamed that they had given him up so easily. But Thorin just stared at him. Bilbo puffed up his chest, tucked away the urge to cry, and boldly walked past Thorin and the company. They followed after him, after all that _was_ the direction they were heading, and no one said anything. Well, he could hear light arguing, but it was too muffled and he was far too angry and hurt to listen to it. He just kept walking.

The howls split the awkward air like a hot knife through butter, and suddenly no one was thinking about how they had betrayed Bilbo. Instead all focus was on the pack of Wargs that were perusing them and forcing them up into the trees. They had to jump from tree to tree until they were all in the very last one, which appeared to be the next one to go if it weren't for Gandalf and his flaming pine cones. Over the orange flames, Bilbo could see the white Orc that was leading the pack. And he could hear Thorin's mutter of the name 'Azog' and he knew they were in trouble.

When the tree started falling, and Thorin charged Azog, Bilbo didn't know what to do. Fear for his life, or for Thorin's. The Dwarf had never given Bilbo any reason to like him. He'd never wanted his loyalty, or his presence. But for some reason, Bilbo couldn't sit idly by and watch as Thorin was used as a chew toy before being tossed to the side. And he certainly couldn't let some orc grunt cut off the future King's head.

He surprised more than just Azog when he threw himself onto the orc and proceeded to start stabbing it until it no longer moved. But the look on the white orcs face when Bilbo stood and pointed his sword at him was pretty priceless. The orc glared at him, but then took a deep breath and grinned.

"Blood." He purred and Bilbo's eyes widened. "You reek of it." Nothing more could be said, thankfully, when the other Dwarves, those who were able to, rushed on the orcs. Bilbo charged against a warg, but ended up getting pushed away and right into the face of the white warg. Azog hooked his metal hand into Bilbo's shirt and pulled him up so he was face to face with the scarred monster. Azog took another long whiff. "You smell so sweet. I will make you bleed more." He vowed, digging the sharp edge of his mace into Bilbo's side. Bilbo could feel the blade cutting through his jacket and shirt and then his skin. He hissed between his teeth and tried to push away from the blade, which only pressed hard enough to cut him.

Azog inhaled deeply as blood started soaking into Bilbo's clothes, and he looked about ready to lick his lips. The mace dug harder and Bilbo cried out at the sharp pain. The white orc smiled cruelly and raised his mace from Bilbo's side and held it near his face. Just before he could press the sharp edge of the mace into Bilbo's cheek, an arrow lodged itself in Azog's stump and he flung his arm, and Bilbo, in outrage. Bilbo hit the ground and rolled a bit, finding himself near Thorin's unconscious body. He grabbed his bleeding side and grunted in pain as he crawled towards Thorin.

A growl made him roll onto his back to find Azog approaching him again. Bilbo could see the murderous intent in those milky blue eyes and his stomach felt like it was sinking down to his very feet. Cold realization crept into his heart...he was going to die. Azog was going to kill him. He would probably torture him first as well. However, before another morbid thought could enter his mind, a shrill scream distracted the both of them.

Giant eagles descended upon them, tossing the orcs and wargs off the side of the cliff, and picking up Dwarves left and right. An eagle firmly gripped Thorin in it's claws and flew off, the Dwarf Prince safe in its grasp. Azog roared in outrage and turned back to the Halfling before him. Bilbo was grabbed just before Azog could move forward and dropped on the back of an eagle. He could hear Azog's roar even as they flew off, leaving the white orc behind.

OOOOO

The sun was rising when the eagles set the company down on a tall, flat topped rock. Gandalf was instantly by Thorin, running his hand over the Dwarf's face and murmuring something. Bilbo didn't realize he was holding his breath until he sucked in a much needed gasp after Thorin opened his eyes.

"The Halfling?" Thorin asked Gandalf, and Bilbo felt his stomach knot up at the question. Was Thorin angry with him? Was he grateful to him? Was he concerned about Bilbo's health? Was he hoping that they'd left him behind?

"It's alright. Bilbo is here. He's quite safe." Gandalf told Thorin. Dwalin and Fili helped Thorin stand up, to a certain point. Then Thorin shook their hands off and stood by himself. He pointed his angry glare at Bilbo, and the Hobbit knew shouldn't have hoped for Thorin to be glad.

"You! What did you think you were doing?! You nearly got yourself killed!" Thorin spat, and Bilbo's already twisted stomach felt like it was turning to lead. "Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild? That you had no place amongst us." He growled, stalking closer with each word. The urge to cry that Bilbo had repressed earlier was rearing its head again. He didn't want to cry in front of Thorin, especially since the last time was still burned into his mind. He was about to start shedding tears when suddenly Thorin smiled. "I have never be so wrong in all my life." And then Bilbo was consumed in a warm hug, pressed firmly against the Dwarf's body as Thorin's arms wrapped around him.

His mind stopped for a moment before starting to race again, this time filled with confusion and uncertainty. But he hesitantly returned the hug none the less. The other Dwarves were cheering and laughing, some looking a little _too_ relieved that Thorin was only acting mad. Thorin eventually released Bilbo and held him at arms length.

"I am sorry I doubted you." Thorin told him honestly. Bilbo swallowed the lump in his throat, the lump consisting of bitter words he wanted to reply, and shook his head.

"No, I would have doubted me too. I'm not a hero, nor a warrior. Not even a burglar." He tried to sound carefree, lighthearted even, but that couldn't be further from the truth. He was still very hurt. And one hug and one apology was not going to change much. But, for now, he wasn't going to ruin the moment. They had just survived yet another impossible situation, and they were all unharmed. Well, mostly. Bilbo couldn't imagine Thorin's warg bites felt to nice. And Bilbo could feel blood continuously dripping down his side from Azog's mace, and down his legs from reopened cuts. Thankfully his pants and coat were so dark with grime and dirt that the blood went unseen.

After they discovered that they could see Erebor in the distance, the company started walking down the Carrock, as Gandalf had called it. There were large steps, that were more like small ledges to the company, leading down the rock. Bilbo stayed near Gandalf, even once they reached the bottom. There they found a cave they could stay in and a river that they could use to bathe. Fili, Kili, and Nori were immediately heading off to the river while Oin checked on Thorin's wounds and the others set up camp with what few supplies had survived through the Misty Mountains and Azog's attack.

Bilbo helped with the firewood before disappearing into the foliage to find a part of the river that was more private. He had to wash his rags, and his cuts, and apply ointment to them. And his side needed attention. He wanted the smell of blood to go away. The way Azog reacted to his smell was just disturbing. He was about to take his jacket off when he heard rustling behind him. He quickly pulled the red coat back over his shoulder and spun around in surprise to see Thorin approaching him.

"T-Thorin." Bilbo couldn't really think of anything else to say. The Dwarf King looked him up and down before finishing his approach to the Hobbit.

"We need to talk." He told Bilbo, whose heart jumped up into his throat.

"A-About what?" Curse his stuttering!

"Blood." Thorin said simply. "He said you reeked of blood." Bilbo had hoped that Thorin hadn't heard that. He had hoped that Thorin was already unconscious when Azog started talking. Obviously not. "Are you injured?" Thorin asked, his eyes lingering on Bilbo's side and on the glistening wet patches of Bilbo's trousers. While the color of his blood couldn't be differentiated from the now dark fabric of Bilbo's trousers, the fresh wetness of it could. And there was no hiding the gash in his side.

"I-I'm fine." He said instantly, turning away from Thorin half way. "I'm perfectly able to dress my wounds myself." He added when Thorin just gave him an unimpressed look.

"What happened?" Thorin asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.

"Azog." Bilbo said simply, and Thorin's eyes narrowed.

"And your shirt." Thorin pointed to the three holes in the collar of Bilbo's shirt. A flash of Azog's metal claw and his terrible face flashed through Bilbo's mind and he shuddered. Thorin didn't miss it, and his mind connected the dots fairly quickly.

"I don't think he likes me very much." Bilbo murmured, fingering the torn cloth. He'd have to ask Dori if he could borrow his sewing kit. If the Dwarf still had it. Bilbo was surprised by Thorin's loud laugh. He looked at the Dwarf cautiously.

"You are a strange being Master Baggins." He said jovially before looking Bilbo over one more time and heading back off towards camp. Bilbo watched him go before frowning lightly. Why was Thorin acting so friendly all of the sudden? Did he really think everything between the two of them was fine just because of one hug?

The Hobbit shrugged the encounter off and moved on to washing himself and his clothes. He was continually looking around to make sure no one would see him, and when he was finally finished he quickly got dressed again. He was a bit cold, due to his wet clothes and the rapidly descending night, but the fire would be warm enough back in camp.

The Dwarves were all grouped together around the fire, whispering to each other quietly, when Bilbo returned from the river. And instantly, they dropped whatever they were whispering about and started talking about something completely random, _mushrooms_. Bilbo was nearly completely sure they had been talking about him before the mushrooms, but he was too exhausted to care what new insults they were discussing.

Bilbo found a flat rock that was close to the fire and curled up in a ball to go to sleep. He listened to the quiet bustle of the other Dwarves for a while, but soon enough all the other were following his example and falling asleep. Bilbo was almost unconscious when he felt something soft and warm being wrapped around him. His eyes opened in surprise just in time to watch Thorin walking away from him. Thorin was missing his thick fur coat, and Bilbo smiled slightly as he snuggled into the warmth it provided. He was still angry. He was still deeply hurt by everything the Dwarves had done and said to him on this journey. But he supposed it was nice that Thorin was trying.

OOOOO

_AN: First chapter up! More to come, hopefully soon, but I do have a lot to do and I can't promise when that will be. Feel free to leave a comment or question. _


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Hello! Obviously, this is the second chapter. And there were a few questions about length and frequency of my chapters, so these are the answers. Yes, all the chapters will be around the same length. I will try to regularly update, with one chapter per week. I will update on Friday night or Saturday morning. And at this point, I have about five chapters written, but there may be one or two more than that. Thanks for your questions! Enjoy the chapter!_

OOOOO

Beorn was the most interesting man Bilbo had ever met. He was three, probably four, times the Hobbits size but he was the most gentle giant. He took very well to Bilbo, and they often sat discussing gardens and food and little things like that. But Bilbo was unprepared for the frown that overcame Beorn's usually cheerful face as they sat outside one day. The Dwarves were all busy washing and sharpening weapons and packing for the surely arduous trek through Mirkwood. It was just him and Beorn, which wasn't _usually_ a frightening thing.

"Little Bunny smells very deeply of blood. I noticed when you came here, but today you smell stronger." Bilbo blushed, both at the pet name, and at the subject. He had needed the blade last night, even in such a beautiful place as Beorn's halls. Thorin had slipped back into his role of distant, angry leader soon after they started away from the Carrock, and Bilbo was so tired of it.

"I must have reopened a wound in my sleep." Bilbo tried to sound calm about it, but Beorn's analyzing eyes saw right through him.

"How long has Little Bunny been hurting himself?" At least he spoke softly. Bilbo looked around frantically, praying no Dwarves heard, and he was rewarded with the sight of an utterly empty garden. He looked back at Beorn, prepared to lie, but he found that he just couldn't lie. Not to this sweet, gentle creature.

"A few months now." He admitted, his voice wavering. Beorn sighed and before Bilbo could react, scooped the Hobbit up and onto his lap.

"It is not my place to tell Little Bunny to stop. But may I ask why you do this?" He asked, and his wide eyes were just too open for Bilbo to reject him.

"At first it was so I could continue on with the journey. The Dwarves were so mean to me at the start and sometimes they still are. I can't cry in front of them, so I have to keep all my emotions stuffed down. And when I cut, everything that's been bottled in just seems to flow out without tears." He explained sadly, rubbing his scarred arms as he spoke. Most of his arm wounds were healed and now were nothing more than pink puffy scars. But his legs were still raw. He'd have to go back to his arms soon, to let his legs heal. Beorn squeezed him a little closer and nuzzled his curls.

"I do not wish for you to hurt yourself. You are too good for such pain Little Bunny. Is there nothing I can do to help you stop?" Beorn asked mournfully.

"I'm sorry Beorn." Bilbo sniffled, and Beorn let out a low whine. Bilbo started playing with a few locks of the shape shifters hair, hopeful that it would sooth him. It worked, and soon enough Beorn was making a noise similar to a purr. It was how Thorin found them when he went searching for his host and his Hobbit. He didn't expect the flare of anger and jealousy he felt when he caught sight of Bilbo curled up in Beorn's lap playing with his hair. It took all he had to restrain from storming over and taking the Halfling out of Beorn's lap and into his arms.

"Hobbit!" Thorin growled, and both Bilbo and Beorn jumped. "You have not finished packing, what are you doing lounging around when you have work to do?" He demanded angrily. He felt a surge of guilt at the fearful look on Bilbo's face, but he quieted the urge to apologize before he could embarrass himself.

"I-I-I-"

"Little Bunny was keeping me company Master Oakenshield. It was my fault he has been, as you say, lounging around." Beorn interrupted the frantic Hobbit, who sagged a bit in relief when Thorin's glare moved to the bear like man. "Run along Little Bunny. I will see you at dinner." Beorn gave Bilbo a warm smile, which Bilbo returned just as warmly, before he jumped down to the ground and scurried off in the opposite direction of Thorin. "Master Oakenshield, perhaps you could sit for a moment." Beorn didn't sound like he was asking, and Thorin really didn't want to anger their host, so he nodded.

"Have I upset you Master Beorn?" Thorin asked cautiously as he sat.

"You have upset Little Bunny. And that is upsetting to me." He said with a half glare. "You are not the only one who has sacrificed for this quest of yours. Little Bunny is far from his home, surrounded by strange, rough beings and danger. Every angry word you speak hurts him very deeply. He feels much deeper than Dwarves do." Beorn continued before Thorin could speak. The Dwarf Prince looked at him for a long time before looking at the path Bilbo had disappeared down. "Be kind to Little Bunny. Or I will not be kind." Beorn murmured darkly before standing and walking off down the same path Bilbo took.

Thorin sat silently for a few minutes, a bit stunned. No one had talked to him like that for years now. Not since he'd managed to get all the Dwarves settled in the Blue Mountains. He was of Durin's Line for Mahal's sake! He would not tolerate being talked down to! But for some reason, he was not angry with Beorn for doing so. He felt...embarrassed. Ashamed. He was abundantly aware of how cruel he had been to Bilbo for the first leg of the journey. Every harsh word, every dark glare, he remembered them all. And his cold attitude had only encouraged the others in the company to act just as coarse towards Bilbo.

Thorin decided to talk to Bilbo about the situation before they left for Mirkwood. Maybe if they sat and had a discussion, just the two of them, they could resolve everything once and for all and just move on. With a fresh start. The only problem with that was the fact that Thorin Oakenshield was rapidly falling in love with Bilbo Baggins.

Thorin imagined that it started in Bag End. The first time he set his eyes on Bilbo, he knew he was in trouble. The Hobbit was just so adorable, so absolutely precious, that Thorin didn't have a chance. But he had other things to think of besides Hobbits and their curly golden hair and enchanting blue eyes, so he had dismissed Bilbo. Tired to make it clear he held no interest for their Burglar. That escalated to showing blatant dislike for Bilbo, even though the Hobbit did not deserve it. He couldn't be nice to Bilbo, he wasn't nice to anyone! So he did the opposite, hoping that distancing himself from Bilbo would help.

The night he had followed Bilbo into the woods and found him crying, a part of his heart had splintered and he wanted nothing more than to comfort him. Instead, he insulted the little creature and left him with nothing more than a knife to protect himself. It just kept getting worse and worse, Thorin became even colder and more callous. Until Bilbo saved him from Azog, with no concern for his own life. Thorin knew he could not ignore his feelings after that. Because even after all he had said and done to put down the Hobbit, Bilbo still risked his life for Thorin. And that was not something Dwarves looked lightly on.

He knew the company would not judge him for having feelings for Bilbo, nor would the Dwarves of his kingdom. He had heirs, two of them, he did not need to marry a Dwarrowdam at all. He could love whoever he wanted. But for some reason, he just couldn't talk to Bilbo. He had tried, several times, but every time he did, he accidentally ended up yelling at the poor boy. Which inevitably lead Bilbo to run off into the woods, probably to cry by himself, but Thorin would never go after him. Not when his heart had hurt so fiercely the first time he saw Bilbo weeping.

Thorin need to talk to Bilbo, not about his feeling, but at least about his actions and his words. He was a gruff Dwarf, by nature. He didn't mean to hurt Bilbo so badly just because he was naturally rough. So he would address the situation that night, after dinner. It would be one his last chanced before they entered Mirkwood. He had to use the chance given him.

Dinner seemed to last much longer than it usually did, and Thorin was more than a little irritated by the time he managed to get Bilbo alone and ask him to talk. The Hobbit looked a mixture of nervous and scared of what Thorin might want to talk about, but he nodded anyways and followed the Dwarf into a secluded store room. Bilbo sat on one of the large stools in the room, but Thorin remained standing.

"I wish to apologize for my behavior and my harsh words. I have acted most abominably on this quest, and you do not deserve such cold reception when you have given up much to go on our journey." Thorin got right to the point, hoping that if he got this over with quickly, he wouldn't end up making an ass of himself. Again. Bilbo openly gaped at him for minute before shaking his head slowly.

"This is a very strange dream." He murmured, and Thorin felt his heart squeeze in his chest.

"This is no dream Master Baggins. I am truly apologizing. As well, I must apologize for the future. I am a very coarse person, I know this, and the others are used to my conduct. But you are not, and I have been very unfair to you. I cannot change who I am, and I _will_ say and do things that may hurt your feelings. I do not do this in an effort to hurt you, it is simply the way I have become due to my circumstances. I hope you will understand this." Thorin watched Bilbo carefully as the Hobbit absorbed what he said.

"You were going to leave me behind." Bilbo blurted out, and it surprised both of them. Thorin hadn't thought of that for days now, and honestly Bilbo hadn't either. The Hobbit's mind had been busy with thoughts of Azog and Beorn and the impending entrance to Mirkwood. But right now the memory of Thorin's harsh words came back full force and made his eyes water. "Is that your normal behavior? Because it felt personal." Bilbo added when Thorin was silent. The Dwarf dropped his head in an admittance of shame and Bilbo had to look away from him.

"I am sorry. Truthfully, I hoped that if we left, and you made it out of the mountain, that you would see we were gone and return to your home. In truth, I am very concerned for you and your well being, and after you nearly fell in the mountains, I hoped my harsh words would drive you away, back to Rivendell. Before it was too late for you to return." Bilbo looked at him with wide, shocked eyes and his mouth opened slightly in surprise.

"Y-You were _trying_ to drive me away?" Bilbo's voice was heavy with pain.

"Yes." Thorin whispered, shame coloring his cheeks. Bilbo looked an inch from tears, and he flinched away when Thorin reached out to him. "Master Baggins, I was going about things in the wrong way, but I only did it in the hopes that you would return to where you could be safe." He desperately wanted Bilbo to say something, even if it was to yell at him, but the Hobbit was deathly silent. He looked down at his covered arm and clenched his fists, though Thorin couldn't fathom why. "Please say something." Thorin begged, but Bilbo shook his head. Suddenly Bilbo sprang up and ran from the room, giving Thorin no explanation or indication of his feeling. The Dwarf King followed after the Halfling, but a heavy hand came down on his shoulder with his first step out of the room. He looked up with a glare at Gandalf, who shook his head.

"Let him calm down. Hobbits are more sensitive than Dwarves, he may need a while." The wizard told him firmly before steering him towards the great hall and the other Dwarves. Thorin looked over his shoulder once, but Bilbo was no where to be seen. With a huff Thorin wondered if he was even capable of speaking to Bilbo without seriously upsetting the poor boy. Apparently, he was not.

OOOOO

Bilbo knew they weren't supposed to leave Beorn's house after the sun went down, but he wasn't going far. Just to the garden. He sat down and quickly rolled up his sleeves, his knife was in his hands in a second and in another second, there was blood trickling down his arm. He couldn't believe it! Thorin was _trying_ to make Bilbo go away! He was _purposefully_ _trying_ to hurt Bilbo's feelings! Bilbo had never felt so...betrayed! He didn't even realize how many cuts he was making, tears stung his eyes for the first time in a long time and he couldn't take it. Even the cutting wasn't helping.

Tears spilled from his eyes, raining down his cheeks and making round circles in the dirt. And once Bilbo started crying, he couldn't stop. He clutched his bleeding arm to his stomach as he wept, opening and with abandon. He didn't even stop when a bizarrely big hand started petting his hair, or when he was pulled onto a large lap. Beorn hummed soothing while Bilbo cried and bled and he didn't say anything. He just let Bilbo cry for as long as he needed.

A few yards away, Thorin saw his Halfling in the shape shifters lap again, but he didn't approach them this time. It was his fault Bilbo was crying so bitterly, and it was his fault that Beorn needed to comfort him in the first place. He was just glad someone was comforting his Bilbo. He couldn't have know that if he had gone up to them, he would have discovered Bilbo's dark secret. He could have seen the blood and the pain that Bilbo was inflicting on himself. But he didn't. He didn't want to hurt Bilbo's feelings anymore than he already had. Better to just avoid him. He turned and returned to the main hall where he tried not to be noticed by the Dwarves.

"I-I'm s-sorry Beorn." Bilbo gasped between sobs.

"No. Do not apologize to me Little Bunny. You are in pain, it is not your fault." Beorn murmured, petting the Hobbit's curls again. It took another ten minutes for Bilbo to calm down and relax in Beorn's arms. And then he just felt numb. "Let me see." Beorn held his giant paw of a hand out and Bilbo looked down at his lap as he laid his arm in that hand. Bilbo glanced at his arm out of the corner of his eye and cringed. There were so many! He had really lost control. There had to be at least twenty new red lines, all sluggishly dribbling blood.

"I-I didn't...I didn't mean to make so many..." Bilbo admitted with a choked whimper. Beorn sighed and nodded, helping Bilbo stand up.

"May I clean and bandage them?" The shape shifter asked hopefully. Bilbo nodded and allowed his host to lead him back inside. They avoided the Dwarf populated area and instead Beorn took Bilbo to his room to fix his wounds. "Have you suffered from any infection?" Beorn asked as he started cleaning blood off of Bilbo's arm. He had a jar of ointment that was the color of spring grass, and smelled like pine needles out and ready as well.

"No. Lord Elrond gave me a salve to keep them clean." Bilbo explained, patting his pocket where the ointment resided. "Though I am running low on it." He acknowledged.

"I shall give you some of mine before you leave. Since you are intent on continuing your habit." Bilbo blushed guiltily at that. "Little Bunny has so many scars. So much pain. Stay here with me Little Bunny. Do not go if it will cause you pain." Beorn pleaded, his eyes impossibly large. Bilbo swallowed thickly and waited until Beorn finished wrapping bandages around his arm to hug the shape shifter.

"I can't Beorn. Not when we're so close to the mountain. Perhaps after, I could come back here." He didn't really think he could go back to the Shire. Beorn smiled a small sad smile and nodded.

"I would love for you to return Little Bunny." He said gently and petted Bilbo's hair for a few seconds. "You should sleep, let your body heal." He urged. Bilbo nodded silently and gave Beorn another short hug before stumbling off. Beorn watched him go with a heavy heart, silently hoping Bilbo would change his mind before they left. This quest, the stress of it as well as the cruel words the Dwarves had spoken to him in the past, was tearing the peaceful Hobbit apart. He wasn't used to such rough elements and harrowing experiences, topped all off with people who didn't appreciate his sacrifice. It was the last thing he wished upon Bilbo.

But the Hobbit was loyal, to a fault, and he wouldn't be giving up just because he was in pain.

OOOOO

Beorn spent a good half hour mothering Bilbo on the morning they departed. He made sure the Hobbit was warmly dressed and that he had more than enough food and water in his pack, as well as a generous supply of ointment. Beorn did not want Bilbo getting an infection, especially not in Mirkwood. He coddled Bilbo for so long and so intensely that Thorin had to send Fili and Kili to remind the two that they needed to leave soon. Beorn muttered under his breath about Dwarves and their insensitivity before helping Bilbo onto his very finest pony.

"Remember Little Bunny, I am always here. I know you do not wish to stop your habit, but please do not let it consume you. Please." Beorn whispered, and Bilbo nodded solemnly.

"Thank you Beorn. For everything." Bilbo whispered back. He gave the shape shifter one more hug before spurring his horse into a trot to catch up with the already moving company. He waved until he couldn't see Beorn anymore, before turning to face forward. The shadow of Mirkwood was like a physical presence before them, and an odd silence fell upon the company as they got closer and closer to the dark, eery trees.

Gandalf left them at the boarder of Mirkwood, telling them simply that he was needed elsewhere and giving them a final, firm warning to not leave the path. Bilbo bit his lip lightly as he watched Gandalf go. He didn't want to think about what awaited them in the forest, and now that Gandalf was gone as well, he could only assume it would be so much worse. But he didn't voice any of his doubts, he simply retrieved his pack from his pony and fell into step between Dori and Nori.

Even the first day of walking was exhausting. After their week of relaxation at Beorn's home, as well as the added pressure of Mirkwood bearing down on them, the company all felt the strain. Even Thorin looked much heavier than he had when they entered the sick forest. They made camp silently, staying as close together as they could, and none of them slept restfully that night. Or any night after.

OOOOO

All of the company were having nightmares in Mirkwood, but they could all see that Bilbo's were the worst. The Hobbit hardly went a night without tossing and turning in his sleep, crying out every now and then. Some nights he would wake up with blood on his hands. But when Oin or Thorin asked to look at his wounds, which were apparently constantly reopening, Bilbo refused vehemently. He constantly maintained that he was fine, and that they were just nightmares, but everyone could tell the difference. They were more than just nightmares, they were terrors that left a haunted look in Bilbo's eyes and shadows across his face.

"What is it that you dream about?" Kili asked softly one night, ten days after they entered the wood. Bilbo looked up, startled, and blushed. "It's okay, we won't judge you." He promised when Bilbo looked ready to deny him an answer. Bilbo looked from him to Fili, who was also looking at him curiously, and then over to Thorin. The Dwarf King was pretending not to hear what was being said, but they could all tell that he was eavesdropping.

"I dream of Azog. I dream we're back on that cliff and facing him. Some nights he kills Thorin. Some nights he kills me. Last night he...well it doesn't matter. They're just dreams." He tried to shrug it off, but Fili persisted

"What did he do last night?" The golden haired Dwarf asked, his eyes wide.

"I really don't think this is an appropriate subject boys..."

"Please tell us Bilbo. Maybe we can help!" Kili suggested, and Fili quickly agreed with him. Bilbo looked between the two of them, and at Thorin again, before sighing.

"He was making me bleed. H-He was using the sharp edge of his mace to open wounds all over my body. And he kept breathing in the scent of my blood, and licking it off my skin. And I couldn't move, I could only watch him slowly make cut after cut." Bilbo relented, his eyes glazing over as he remembered the haunting nightmare. He was fairly sure that if Azog had had more time to "play" with him on the mountainside, such a fate would have befallen him.

"Is that was he was doing? When I shot him?" Kili asked in a weak voice. "Was he cutting you Bilbo?" He added when Bilbo said nothing.

"It was only my side. He was going to cut my face, but then you stopped him. I never thanked you for that. But it means the world to me Kili." The Hobbit gave the dark haired Dwarf a small smile and put his hand on Kili's.

"I would never let someone hurt you Bilbo. Not if I had a choice." He promised. Someone cleared their throat and the three of them looked up to find Thorin standing close to them.

"I would like a word with our Burglar." The message was clear. _Fili and Kili, leave_. And leave they did. It hardly took them a few seconds to be half way across the camp. Bilbo looked up at Thorin nervously for a few moments before the future King sat heavily next to Bilbo. "After we climbed down the Carrock, and I came to you by the river, I asked you what happened. All you said was his name. Why didn't you tell me what he did?" Thorin asked quietly, looking straight into Bilbo's eyes. The Hobbit fidgeted uncomfortably, but couldn't look away from Thorin's piercing stare.

"I didn't think that you would care." He admitted with a whimper. Thorin's entire face shifted to one of anger for a moment before he schooled himself mentally and his face returned to impassive. "I didn't want to be more a burden than I already was, and I didn't want you to be angry with me for being weak after we had just come to a sort of truce. So I didn't tell you." He hastily continued explaining before falling silent.

"And the wound? How fares it?" Thorin asked in his typically stoic voice. Bilbo absently rubbed his side where the gash was scarred over. It wasn't Azog's wound that he kept reopening, it was his own self inflicted wounds. But he wondered if he should blame it on the side wound anyways. The only problem was that if he did, Thorin would probably ask to see it. And if Bilbo said no, he would be suspicious.

"It's fine now. It's healed, though sometimes it twinges when I stretch a certain way." Bilbo said, strangely emotionless as he said it.

"Why do you wake up with blood on your hands Bilbo?" Thorin demanded after a moment. Bilbo looked up in shock. He had never heard Thorin speak his first name before. As well, there was so much emotion in the King's voice when he asked. Such a big change from the terrible unemotional tone he normally always took. Bilbo swallowed heavily, debating just telling Thorin. Would the Dwarf King take it as well as Elrond and Beorn had? Or would he be disgusted and send Bilbo away? He was too uncertain. He couldn't tell Thorin, because he couldn't risk inciting the King's anger. He just couldn't.

"I scratch at my skin while I sleep, when I'm frightened. I used to do it a lot as a fauntling, and the forest must be bringing it out again." It wasn't technically a lie. He _did_ use to scratch, and it _was_ the scratching that was reopening his wounds now.

"May I see your injuries?" Bilbo winced and instinctively cradled his arms to his stomach.

"They're fine Thorin. Beorn gave me an ointment, in case something like this happened. They are in no danger." Bilbo rushed to assure him. Thorin looked like he wanted to insist, but sighed and nodded after a moment.

"Very well Master Baggins. But please, if something does happen, promise me you will go to Oin." Thorin held his eyes in such an intense way that he found himself nodding before his mind could fully process what he was agreeing to. "Thank you." Thorin nodded slightly before standing and walking away. Bilbo watched him walk away before releasing a shaky breath. His skin itched dangerously, begging for him to cut it. But they were all in such close quarters in the forest that he was having to make due with reopening old cuts as he slept. When they finally reached the other side of this impossibly large woodland, then he would be able to slip away.

OOOOO

Bilbo didn't quite know what happened. Once moment they were walking, and then they were set upon by giant spiders! He blacked out after being stung, and when he woke up it was to the face of a blond male Elf. They had been saved by the woodland Elves, and not a moment too soon. After the Elves cut them out of their cocoons, Thorin made it a point to keep Bilbo next to him. The one who had cut Bilbo out of the spider silk noticed, and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. But he didn't say anything, just started leading the Dwarves towards the palace.

Thranduil King of Mirkwood was much taller than Bilbo thought he would be. All Elves were tall, and graceful, and beautiful. But Thranduil just seemed to surpass all the others and steal the spotlight all for himself. Bilbo knew he was gaping at the King, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. Thorin muttered and elbowed the Hobbit, and Bilbo finally snapped out of it. He blushed and looked at Thorin apologetically.

"Thorin Oakenshield. Son of Thrain, son of Thror. How...unexpected." Thranduil drawled with a slight smirk. "What brings you to my kingdom, Master Dwarf?" He asked pointedly.

"We are merely passing through." Balin spoke before Thorin could snarl some kind of insult. "We are heading to the Iron Hills." He added when Thranduil merely raised an eyebrow in disbelief. The Elf observed the older Dwarf before his eyes took in the others of the company. Thus far his attention was focused on Thorin, but he supposed he should at least glance at the others. He was glad that he did when his eyes landed on the strangest of beings.

He cocked his head to the side and his brows drew together in confusion as he looked the creature over. It was small, smaller than Dwarves even! It had light, curled hair and an adorable button nose, as well as lightly tapered ears. Not as dramatic as Elf's ears, but definitely pointed. He wore light, thin clothes of bright colors and no shoes. Which allowed Thranduil a full view of the startling patch of fur on the male's feet. Using his observations, he quickly came to a conclusion about the identity of this strange thing. He was a Hobbit. And Hobbits, if he remembers correctly, were not prone to wander far from their homes. The fact that this was the first one he'd ever seen attested to that fact. So what was this little one doing in Mirkwood, which was indeed so very far away from his home?

"_Legolas, bring the Halfling forward."_ Thranduil spoke in Sindarin, much to the dismay of the Dwarves, but he saw understanding in the Hobbits eyes.

"I have a name." Bilbo said, clinging to his pride even as the one called Legolas grabbed him by his upper arm and brought him closer to the King. Thranduil couldn't help but grin at the indignation in the little ones voice. Such a strange thing. The Elf King stood and leisurely approached the Hobbit, who stood tall and unwavering. He must be used to intimidation. Thranduil stopped in front of the creature and crouched to be on the same level as him. The Elven guards exchanged glances with each other, because they'd never seen their king crouch before, but no one said anything.

"_And what is your name little one?"_ He asked, once again in Sindarin, just to test his theory.

"Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins." The Hobbit stated proudly, and Thranduil smiled.

"_How do you know our language?"_ He asked curiously. Bilbo shrugged and tried to look away, but Thranduil placed one finger under his chin and turned his face back towards his. _"Come now Bilbo, there's no need for you to be modest."_ He goaded, and sure enough a pleasant blush lit the Halfling's face.

"My mother taught me. She went to Rivendell and had them teach her the language. I can read it and understand it, but speaking it is hard for me." Bilbo explained, another blush of embarrassment lighting his cheeks.

"_Impressive. And what is a Hobbit of the Shire doing with a group of Dwarves?"_ Thranduil asked suspiciously. Bilbo glanced over his shoulder at the mentioned Dwarves, who all had looks that ranged between murderous and curious. Thorin being the murderous one and Kili probably the most curious.

"We are traveling to the Blue Mountains. I came along because my mother always wanted me to go on an adventure." He lied smoothly, but Thranduil was far too old and wise to fall for such an innocent lie. He tsked and gestured for the Dwarves to be taken to cells.

"_Put Oakenshield away from the others."_ He ordered before turning and casually taking up his throne again. He watched idly as the Dwarves fought their imprisonment, and called out for their Hobbit. But soon silence retook the grand Halls and it was just the King, Legolas, and Bilbo. The other guards had been sent away as well, and Bilbo felt terribly exposed without the company behind him. "I imagine Thorin and his little company like to think of me as a villain. I also imagine they've told you all about how I refused to slay the Dragon for them that fateful day many years ago." He droned with a frown.

"W-Well yes, they have. B-But in my opinion, they're a bit harsh. It's obvious that you couldn't have defeated the Dragon, especially not without a great deal of loss to your people. It's not fair of Thorin to hold that against you." Bilbo explained, gaining himself a raised eyebrow from the King. "B-But, I also think it wasn't right that you left them alone after that. You could have offered them shelter, or food, but you didn't. And many of their people died as they wandered the wilderness without aid from any others." He ventured, and the eyebrow lowered again. Thranduil stared blankly at the Hobbit for a long while before beckoning Legolas closer.

"Give the Halfling a proper room, and a proper bath. He will join me for dinner." Bilbo could just barely hear the Elvenking's whisper, but his heart seized in fear anyways.

"B-But the company-"

"The company is comprised of rude, disgusting Dwarves that would sneer at any offer of kindness from me, especially now. If I actually believed they would be grateful for such a gift, I would extend it to them. You on the other hand, are a Hobbit. You understand the merits of manners and sanitation. So, you will accept my offer, and you will do it with grace." Thranduil's voice was powerful, echoing all around the room and making the Hobbit shudder a little.

"Thank you King Thranduil. For your most gracious gift." Bilbo tried to keep his voice calm, but it shook anyways. Thranduil grinned and nodded to Legolas, who untied Bilbo's binds before leading him off into the palace and to the guest rooms. Legolas stopped in front of the very last door in a long hallway and bowed to Bilbo before leaving him in front of the door. Bilbo watched him disappear back down the hallway before tentatively opening the door and looking inside.

The room was beautiful, far grander than Bilbo could ever have imagined, and he flushed to think that Thranduil wanted him to inhabit this room. The bed would easily fit five adult Hobbits, and there was a large desk in the corner as well. A huge dresser stood proud off to the side, next to a closed door that Bilbo could only guess lead to a bathroom. And then there was the balcony, which was just beyond a beautiful stained glass door. Bilbo gingerly closed the door behind him and then went to the balcony.

He had a beautiful view from the balcony. Several dozen feel below there was a lovely garden that stretched forward all the way to the edge of a cliff. Beyond the cliff, Bilbo could see a rushing river that lead through the forest, and towards the lake that he could just barely see through the trees. It was picture perfect, though Bilbo would prefer the peaceful rolling hills of the Shire to the endless Mirkwood that was all around them. He retreated back inside and jumped when he saw someone standing near the door. It was the red haired Elf lass from earlier, and she giggled lightly at the surprised on Bilbo's face.

"I apologize for startling you little Master." She bowed at her waist and smiled warmly. "I am Tauriel. I have come to take your clothes so they may be cleaned before you eat with the King." She explained sweetly. But Bilbo was very shaken at the thought.

"I-I- thank you but that's not necessary." He tried to insist.

"Have you smelled yourself little one? You are direly in need of a bath, which you will find through that door. If you like, I can wait out here until you are in the water and then I can take your clothes." She proposed, and Bilbo didn't think that sounded any better than giving her his closed before he was in the bath. "Of course, there's robes that you can wear while your clothes are being washed. If that is your fear." She added when she saw the apprehension on his face.

"Well...I suppose I'll just...go get in then." He murmured in defeat and hung his head as he stalked into the bathroom. The tub he found was just like the rest of the room, far too large for one little Hobbit. But Bilbo found he didn't mind that thought too much. It had been far too long since he'd had a good bath. He turned the hot water on, marveling at the preheated water that filled the tub. He found rose smelling salts to the side of the tub and sprinkled some into the water. Soon enough the entire room smelled of roses, and Bilbo breathed in a big breath of the soothing air.

He reluctantly stripped out of his clothes, putting his ring off to the side, and then bunched them up near the door so Tauriel wouldn't have to really enter the room to get them. He sighed in bliss as he slipped into the perfectly warm water and enjoyed the feeling of his tense muscles relaxing for the first time in weeks. Tauriel must have entered at some point in time, because he looked over to find his clothes gone. But he couldn't be bothered to worry about her seeing the bright red lines decorating his arms and legs. If she had, she hadn't said anything.

He lounged in the blessed water until it started to cool, and then he drained the tub before refilling it. He took up soap and a washcloth and began to scrub at his dirty skin. He lathered soap onto his hands and worked it through his matted and disgusting curls, working out the lumps and tangles until it was as soft as it had been in the Shire. He washed himself three, maybe four, times before releasing the water and rising to dry himself off.

True to Tauriel's words, he found a range of robes all folded nicely within a cabinet to the side. Most of them were too big for him, but beggars couldn't be choosers. He wrapped himself in a soft blue robe and tied it closed around his waist. There was no one waiting for him when he reentered the room, so he shrugged and sat on the overly large bed. He didn't really remember when he decided to lay down, or when he decided to slip between the impossibly soft sheets of the impossibly large bed. Nor did he recall exactly when his eyes slipped shut. But it seemed that the moment they did, Bilbo Baggins was asleep. And he slept deeper than ever before.

OOOOO

_AN: What did you think? Feel free to leave a comment or question, and I will see you next week for the next chapter. _


	3. Chapter 3

OOOOO

"Master Baggins." A sweet voice cooed near Bilbo, but he didn't want to wake up. He hadn't been this comfortable since he left Bag End. Even at Beorn's! These Elves really knew their way around a soft mattress. "Master Baggins. It's dinner time." The voice told him with a bit of humor in it. Bilbo murmured incoherently and rolled onto his back, blinking his eyes slowly. Tauriel stood at the edge of his bed with a sweet smile and a bundle of clothes.

"Is it dinner already?" Bilbo asked sleepily. Tauriel laughed, and it was like bells.

"Master Baggins you missed dinner. And breakfast. And lunch. You've been asleep for a very long time." She explained, and that woke Bilbo up.

"I've really been asleep that long?!" Bilbo couldn't believe himself! The Dwarves were all locked up in some dungeon and here he was, lounging in the luxuries that he didn't deserve!

"Yes, but don't worry. King Thranduil completely understands. Your journey through Mirkwood must have been very tiring. But he would like you to join him for dinner tonight, if you're feeling better." For some reason Bilbo didn't think Thranduil asked as nicely as Tauriel was making it sound. He glanced at the clothes in her hand, and she sat them down next to him. "Your clothes are still being washed, but these should fit you. They're the smallest we could find." She said with a coy smile. Bilbo blushed.

"Thank you." He said with a small smile.

"I shall wait outside to walk you to the dining hall." She told him and gave him a small bow before leaving his room. Bilbo sighed, stretched, and then practically slid off his bed to stand up. He couldn't believe he had slept for so long! But he did feel more rested than he had in weeks. He picked up the loaned clothes and looked them over. The trousers were a deep green and he smiled a little to see they had been cut to his preferred length. He wondered if Tauriel did that herself. The tunic was silver, and would probably be a little long, but he didn't mind that. There was also a leather belt and some leather shoes. But he put the shoes to the side.

Tauriel bit her lip to keep from laughing when Bilbo came out of his room. He looked young _before_ he was in oversized clothes, but _now_ he looked no bigger than a Elfling! Bilbo saw right through her attempt at not laughing, and narrowed his eyes.

"I don't think they look that bad." He said proudly.

"No! They don't look bad at all Master Baggins! You just look so...cute! You look no more than a century old!" She told him, resisting the urge to just gather him up into a hug. Bilbo lost his defensiveness and looked down at himself.

"I suppose I do look a little young." He chuckled. He imagined that a century was quite young to Elves. Tauriel smiled warmly at him, before beckoning him to follow her. He asked her idle questions as they walked. About Mirkwood and the spiders and her opinion of her King. And then he turned to more serious questions.

"What has become of the company?" He asked shyly.

"I am not supposed to discuss the prisoners." Tauriel told him, though she sounded a little reluctant. Bilbo frowned, and if it looked like a pout, neither of them said anything.

"Am I a prisoner?" He asked.

"No. You are a guest." She said firmly. She stopped in front of a large white door. "Good luck." She told him with a smile before opening the door and escorting him in. Thranduil was seated at a large, nearly empty table. The only other person sitting with him was Legolas, who smiled at Bilbo as Tauriel led him to the open chair on Thranduil's left. The King sat at the head of the table, with Legolas to his right.

"Master Baggins. I was beginning to worry that you were in poor health." Thranduil spoke as Bilbo sat down.

"I apologize. I did not realize I was quite so tired." Bilbo blushed and looked down at the fine table cloth.

"Worry not, little Hobbit. Is your room to your liking?" Thranduil asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's...fantastic! Thank you very much for your kindness." The Elf King smiled, clearly satisfied with himself. They didn't speak as they ate. Unlike the Rivendell Elves, Thranduil served meat, along with mashed potatoes and fruit and vegetables. It was delicious, all of it, but Bilbo had grown used to eating smaller portions on his journey, and he just wasn't as hungry as he used to be. Not anymore. He managed to finish his first plate, but when Thranduil offered a second, he politely declined.

"I was under the impression that Hobbits ate frequently, and in large quantities." The Elvenking was clearly curious, and he had been too kind to Bilbo for the Hobbit to not answer his questions. Bilbo took a sip of the strong wine before sitting back.

"Hobbits eat on average seven meals a day, and in varying quantities depending on the meal. But on this journey, I have learned to make due with one or two meals. It has been bizarrely eventful for a simple journey to the Iron Hills. Sometimes we run very low on rations." Bilbo explained, though he saw the way Thranduil rolled his eyes when the Iron Hills lie came up.

"Indeed. And are you unhappy, having to cut back so severely?" The King questioned him.

"At first I was very distressed because of it. But I know that my comfortable life as a Hobbit is not congruent with an adventure, of any kind. I've made due." Bilbo felt a little proud of how well he was doing on the quest. Aside from the cutting, he really hadn't changed too much because of the journey. And he was taking it as well in stride as possible. He just wished Thorin and the Dwarves saw it like that. Sometimes they still looked at him, and their eyes said it all. Weak. A liability. Unfit for a journey. A waste of time.

"You are most unusual then, in Hobbit standards." Thranduil pointed out. Bilbo flushed.

"I suppose I have become less respectable because I ran out my door, but I think that I am doing what my mother would have wanted me to do. I think I am making her proud." _Or I would be, if I weren't slowly destroying myself._ Bilbo knew that was what he was doing. He could feel it in his soul. But he couldn't bring himself to care enough to stop. Not when it was the only thing keeping him together.

"You joined thirteen Dwarves on a journey across Middle Earth...because you thought your mother would approve?" Thranduil was obviously still hung up on the idea.

"W-Well...yes. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life in the Shire, never having seen further and Bree. I decided I would join the Dwarves until they got to their destination, then go south to Gondor and back West through Fanghorn or Lothlorien." Bilbo told them, a little light of excitement in his eyes.

"You seem to know the world pretty well already." Legolas observed.

"My father made sure I was adept with maps. I have...probably far too many of them. Back home." Bilbo smiled softly thinking about Bag End. Thranduil hummed lightly and then sighed.

"I suppose we shouldn't delay such an innocent journey." Thranduil murmured, though he still didn't sound convinced of the innocence. "Are you going to pass through Lake Town?" The King asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know, Balin is the navigator. For good reason too. Thorin got lost twice trying to find my home when they passed through the Shire. I can't imagine how many wrong turns we would have taken by now if he had been in charge." Bilbo let himself smile fondly at the thought of the Dwarves. They weren't exactly his friends yet, at least he didn't think they were. But they were all he had at the moment.

"I shall have to ask him then. Perhaps we could both go see them." He proposed. Bilbo lit up instantly.

"Could we?" He asked, scooting to the edge of his chair.

"Of course, I'm the king. I can do whatever I please." Thranduil said, and Bilbo would think him smug but for the sly grin he was wearing. "Follow me Master Baggins." He stood and lead the way and Bilbo jumped up eagerly to follow. Unlike with Tauriel, there was no conversation between Bilbo and Thranduil as they walked. It would be awkward, but for the fact that Bilbo was enjoying just looking around at the halls he passed through. When finally the Elvenking stopped in front of a relatively plain door, in comparison to the rest of the palace, Bilbo was just about bouncing in place. The second the King pushed the doors open, Bilbo was stumbling in and hurrying to the first cell he came across. Fili and Kili looked up in surprise when Bilbo was suddenly standing in front of their cell.

"Bilbo!" They both exclaimed, jumping up to meet him at the bars of the cell. Ten other calls of his name shortly followed Fili and Kili's as all the Dwarves became aware of his presence.

"What are yeh doin here laddie?" Bofur asked, worry on his face.

"Oh, he was very excited to visit." Thranduil droned from where he was still standing at the entrance to the dungeon. All the Dwarves turned cold eyes to the King, who ignored them all and walked leisurely until he stood in front of Balin's cell. As he questioned the eldest Dwarf, Bilbo went from cell to cell.

"Are yeh okay?" Dwalin asked, scanning Bilbo up and down very closely.

"I'm fine, I even got a bath!" Bilbo said with a grin.

"A bath! No fair! Why don't we get baths?" Ori whined.

"Yeah, I'm sharing a cell with a warg over here!" Fili muttered, earning himself an indignant shout from Kili.

"Have yeh seen Thorin, Bilbo?" Dwalin demanded once the other stopped talking about baths.

"No, but I've been asleep for a really long time. No one woke me, so I just...kept sleeping until an hour ago." Bilbo admitted, his face red.

"Sleeping so long? That's not natural. Are yeh feelin alright?" Oin immediately piped in. Bilbo felt his arms and legs throb with the question. No, he was not alright. But like hell he was ever going to admit that to the Dwarves.

"I'm fine, like I've said. I was just exhausted. After the trek through Mirkwood, I think I'm excused for that." He pointed out. "What about all of you?" He changed the subject quickly.

"We're fine. Eager to be on our way though." Balin stated, and Bilbo realized he was no longer talking to Thranduil. The Elvenking was very intently watching Bilbo's interaction with the Dwarves. He seemed...discontent for some reason. Like he didn't like what he saw. But Bilbo couldn't for the life of him think of why.

"Could I see Thorin?" Bilbo asked, his voice more hopeful than he meant it to be. Thranduil considered him for a few moments before speaking.

"Not tonight. I'll have Legolas take you down to the Deep Dungeons in the morning. For now, I believe my son and my commander have plans for you. To wear you out so you can go back to sleep for the night." His smile seemed to suggest that Bilbo wasn't going to enjoy this much.

"W-What kind of plans are they?" Bilbo asked nervously.

OOOOO

"B-But I don't know how to sword fight!" Bilbo said, a bit panicked. He was holding Sting, graciously returned to him by Legolas, and facing the Prince and Tauriel.

"Exactly. We're going to teach you. It should be enough physical activity to help you get to sleep tonight, and it's a valuable skill to have." Tauriel explained with a brilliant smile. Bilbo opened his mouth to object, but nothing came out. "Just relax Bilbo! Only a short lesson tonight."

"Tonight?! That implies we will be doing this some other night as well!" Bilbo's eyes widened almost comically at the thought. Legolas laughed and Tauriel elbowed him.

"Come on Bilbo, let's see what you know so we can know where to start with the lesson." Tauriel beckoned for Bilbo to attack her.

"Is there a level zero?" Bilbo muttered before holding up Sting. Legolas laughed again and this time Tauriel pushed him right to the ground. Legolas pretty much stayed there for the lesson, laughing and calling out little things and just generally enjoying himself as Bilbo tried and failed to fight Tauriel. When at last, a couple hours later, Tauriel decided the lesson was over, Bilbo was sweaty and tired and was wondering why on earth he had let himself get talked into that.

"I'll walk you back to your room." Legolas offered, tossing his unused sword to the red haired Elf.

"Thanks." Bilbo huffed. At first Bilbo thought there might just be an awkward silence the whole way to his room, but soon enough Legolas started talking.

"You really like the Dwarves, don't you." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"Well...they've grown on me. More than I've grown on them." He murmured the last bit under his breath, but Legolas had Elf ears. He heard everything.

"My father said they were all very happy to see you today. And yet you doubt their affections towards you." Again, it wasn't really a question. Bilbo just shrugged. "You have walked many miles since leaving the Shire, spent months on the road with the Dwarves. What makes you think they do not care for you after such a long time and distance?" Bilbo snorted.

"You obviously don't know many Dwarves." He said sarcastically.

"No, I have not met an overabundance of them. But I've heard that they hardly ever show the emotions they're truly feeling. They pretend to be angry or unaffected when really they feel unbearably happy or sad." Legolas told him like a teacher might talk to a student. Bilbo didn't feel reassured. "Besides, I don't see how anyone could dislike you. I've only known you a few hours and I already like you." Legolas stated with a warm smile. Bilbo tried to return it, he really did. But he could feel just how fake it was. He knew Legolas could too.

"Thank you. For trying."

"Of course." Legolas smiled again and chattered about pointless things for the rest of the walk. Bilbo didn't take a word of it in, his mind far away. It was trapped in a never ending circle, remembering every time one of the Dwarves said or did something that made him want to burst out in tears. In particular, his mind kept coming back to the night it had been too much. The night he had run off into the woods to cry. The night Thorin had given him the first knife that would cut into his skin. The night Bilbo began cutting himself. It seemed like yesterday. "Bilbo?" He snapped his head up, realizing that they stood in front of his door. "Are you okay?" Legolas asked, and it was real actual concern in his tone.

"Yes, of course. Just tired. I think I'll take a bath and get in bed." Bilbo said, making sure his voice held none of the turmoil he felt inside. Legolas didn't look completely assured, but nodded and bowed anyways.

"I'll come get you in the morning to take you go to see Thorin." He promised before walking away. Bilbo ducked into his chambers, making a beeline to the bathroom, and dropping sweaty clothes as he went. He was sitting in a perfectly warm bath when he noticed the knife a few yards away, sitting on the sink. It was a shaving knife, not that he'd ever had need for one. He wondered why Elves would have shaving knives, because as far as he knew they didn't grow facial hair either. But he supposed it was a guest room, and maybe they had Men guests sometimes, being so close to Lake Town. In any case, it was just what he needed.

By the time he drained the water, it was a shade away from red, tainted with blood. And Bilbo felt quite weak. He had probably overdone himself, but he had been waiting so long for a chance to actually open his skin like this! Scratching at old scabs just wasn't the same. In any case, he washed the red residue off the white tub and then enfolded himself in a robe before stumbling to the bed. He made sure he was wrapped up tight, so Legolas wouldn't see the cuts when he came to wake him the next morning. And he promptly fell asleep.

OOOOO

"Bilbo? Bilbo, it's me, Legolas. Did you still want to go see Thorin?" Instantly Bilbo was awake, sitting up quickly before remembering he was wrapped in a cocoon and nearly falling out of bed. "Do you always sleep like this?" Legolas asked with a chuckle.

"No, not really. It just seemed like a good idea at the time." Bilbo said with a yawn. "I don't suppose my closes are done being washed."

"Unfortunately no, there are some resilient stains. But I did bring you a fresh pair of trousers and a clean tunic. Since the ones from yesterday got a little gross." Yeah. Only a lot.

"Thanks." Bilbo murmured sleepily. He resisted the urge to rub his eyes, knowing that the robe sleeves were pretty loose and if they slipped at all, Legolas would see. The prince left the new clothes on his bed and then left to wait for Bilbo in the hallway. Bilbo tried to mentally prepare himself for the pain he knew he'd feel the moment he started moving his limbs, but he still flinched and gasped when he started untangling himself. His arms burned, and his legs throbbed. Last night it hadn't seemed so bad, but this morning he was surprised he was even alive. And that scared him, more than he cared to admit.

The trousers were brown today, cut to his length again, and the tunic was green. The tunic yesterday had been sort of scratchy, but the one Legolas had brought was softer than silk and fuzzy. And blessedly long sleeved. Bilbo ignored the shoes again and tied his belt around his waist again. He tried to get his curls to lie down, or at least go in one direction, and he was still running his hands through the mess when he left his room.

"You know there's a comb in the bathroom." Legolas mentioned as they started walking.

"My hair's usually so well behaved, I don't get why it's acting like a petulant child." Bilbo huffed, giving up. "Does it at least look passable?" Bilbo asked shyly.

"It looks fine Bilbo. Oh, I brought you an apple since you slept through breakfast." Legolas tossed him the said apple and then began with his mindless chatter once more. Bilbo was more than slightly relieved that both Legolas and Tauriel seemed to sense he would rather listen than talk. Apparently they were more perceptive than Dwarves. Not that he was surprised. When they arrived in the Deep Dungeons, Legolas stopped him in front of the door. "Listen, I have to tell my father everything you or he says. So if there's something you don't want him to know, don't say it, okay?" Bilbo was honestly shocked Legolas was giving him a warning!

"T-Thank you. For telling me." Bilbo smiled, and this time it was real. Legolas smiled back and opened the door. Bilbo rushed in and moved from empty cell to empty cell until he found the one he was looking for. "Thorin!" He exclaimed happily. Thorin's head shot up from where it was resting in his hands and he didn't seem to comprehend what he was looking at for a moment.

"Bilbo?" Thorin sounded confused, and disbelieving as well, as his eyes took in the Hobbit standing just beyond his cell door. There was an Elf behind Bilbo, Thranduil's son if Thorin remembered correctly. But his eyes only briefly looked at the Elf before going back to Bilbo. "How is this possible?" Thorin asked, stumbling to the cell door and reaching out tentatively towards his visitor. Bilbo took Thorin's outstretched hand in his own and smiled slightly, as much as he could. He was still a little bitter with Thorin for purposefully hurting his feelings all that time. But he was glad to see the Dwarf King whole and safe.

"I convinced Thranduil to let me visit you. The others have been so worried. So have I." He explained, squeezing the King's hand reassuringly.

"You got to wash your hair. Ugh, but what are you wearing?" Thorin smiled warmly and reached up to card his fingers through the soft golden curls. His eyes examined the fine elvish tunic that adorned his Hobbit with distaste, but Bilbo hardly seemed bothered. "Have they hurt you? Have they hurt any of you?" Thorin demanded, his hand dropping down to Bilbo's shoulder so he could bring him closer. They were both practically pressed into the bars, but Thorin wanted Bilbo to be closer. He wanted to hold the Halfling and make sure that nothing was wrong with him. He wanted to hold him and never let go.

"We're all fine. I mean, the company is pretty annoyed, and as I said, worried. But they're fed well and they even let Fili and Kili stay in the same cell with each other." Bilbo told him with his most carefree voice.

"How long will he keep us his prisoners?" Thorin whispered this question, though they both knew Legolas could hear, with his sharp Elf ears.

"He says he will let you go soon. But he did ask that you consider calling off this petty feud of yours, his words not mine, and maybe becoming partners again. Crops for Star Jewels, like you used to. You know, if you ever retake Erebor." Bilbo relayed the message Thranduil had given him last night before the sword training, and he wasn't surprised when Thorin grew rigid and tightened his grip on his shoulder and waist. Bilbo didn't even realize that Thorin's arm had curled around his body, but he was all too aware now.

"I would not give that coward anything. And I would rather trade with Smaug himself." Thorin growled, and Bilbo flinched. Legolas shifted in the background, earning himself a sharp glare from Thorin. "You may tell your King that he will receive nothing from me. Just as I received nothing from _him_ the day the Dragon attacked my people." Thorin spat at the Elf. Legolas grit his teeth and nodded.

"I will relay your response. Come Master Baggins, we must tell my father." Legolas gestured for Bilbo to follow him, but Thorin tightened his hold on the Hobbit before he could make a move.

"Go tell him yourself." Thorin snarled, not noticing how Bilbo flinched this time. The Hobbit gently tried to pry Thorin's hand off his shoulder, but it was like trying to bend an Elvish blade in two. He whimpered as Thorin pulled him ever closer. He was sure the bars of the cell would leave some pretty interesting bruised on his chest and stomach at this rate. "He stays with me." Thorin hissed when Legolas stepped forward.

"T-Thorin you're hur-"

"Your King is nothing but a spineless coward hiding away in his decaying kingdom while others suffer." Thorin declared, trying to get further under the Prince's skin. Legolas wasn't listening to the Dwarf anymore, he was more concerned by the little whimpers Bilbo was making. The grip Thorin had on the Hobbit looked painful at this point, and he couldn't imagine the bars were any more comfortable than Thorin's hold.

"Release Master Baggins this instant." Legolas thundered, and Thorin blinked a few times before looking down at Bilbo. The Hobbit's eyes were closed shut and he was biting his bottom lip intently, like he was in pain. He was gripping the bars of the cell door so tightly his knuckles were white. Thorin relaxed his hold on Bilbo, and his Halfling nearly dropped to the ground for a moment before he recovered. He took large steps back from the bars Thorin's cell, rubbing his sore chest and shoulder.

"Bilbo...I-I'm sorry..." Thorin choked out, dumbfounded that he had hurt his love. Bilbo took a few deep breaths to calm himself, since he did not want to burst out into tears now of all times.

"N-No, it's fine. Really." Bilbo insisted nervously when Legolas moved to check his chest. "The uh...the company wanted me to tell you that they think it would be wise to cooperate with the Elves. Balin specifically said it would be better to forgive old grievances and move on." Bilbo told Thorin, though he couldn't stop cringing from the pain in his chest and shoulder.

"Bilbo...I don't care about any of that...I'm so sorry. Please, let me see if I have seriously hurt you." Thorin reached out for Bilbo's hand, but the Hobbit couldn't bring himself to take it. "Bilbo." Thorin's voice broke in just that one word.

"Thorin I'm fine. I'm used to bruises by now." Bilbo tried to sound carefree, but he didn't know how well he succeeded based off the frown he was receiving from Legolas. "I'll...I'll just tell Thranduil that you accept then?"

"Bilbo. Please." Thorin begged, ignoring the question all together. Bilbo sighed but stepped forwards, not too close though. He carefully untied the belt on his waist and pulled up his tunic. So far no bruises had blossomed, but the skin was red in the places it had been pressed against the metal bars.

"See. I'm fine." Bilbo smiled reassuringly and let the tunic drop. "Thorin, please focus, this is important. Thranduil-"

"I don't care about Thranduil I care about you! If Balin thinks it's a brilliant idea, then tell him yes! Please, let me worry about you!" Thorin yelled, and Bilbo flinched back. Legolas put a hand on his shoulder that wasn't currently throbbing.

"I think we should go Bilbo." He murmured.

"You take your filthy hands off of him!" Thorin snarled. Legolas just gave him an unimpressed look. "Please don't go Bilbo." He added, his face softening immediately.

"I-I have to. I have things to attend to, and the other members of the company too. I'll come back tomorrow, if we're not back on our quest by then." Bilbo put his hand gently on Thorin's, which immediately grabbed him tightly. "I promise." He whispered when Thorin looked unwilling to let go. The Dwarf King wanted to protest, he wanted Bilbo to stay, but he saw the way Legolas was looking at him. Like he would gladly sever Thorin's hand from his body if it meant he would let Bilbo go.

"Tomorrow?" Thorin asked, just to make sure.

"I promise." Bilbo reaffirmed and pulled his hand from Thorin's grip. "Maybe I can talk Legolas into bringing you something to read later. I can't imagine how boring it gets down here all by yourself." Bilbo proposed, because Thorin looked so...heartbroken. He glanced at Legolas, who looked a step beyond hesitant, but eventually nodded. "See, everything's okay. I'll see you tomorrow Thorin." He smiled one more time before letting Legolas lead him out of the Deep Dungeons. Bilbo kept his cheerful and careless act up all the way to his room, but the second he shut his door, he slid down the wall and buried his face in his hands.

He just...couldn't believe it. Thorin had hurt him! Not on purpose, but that didn't make it hurt any less! His chest throbbed with a slow pulse, almost like his legs, and his shoulder just ached. Yes, Thorin had seemed appropriately horrified with himself, but Bilbo was _still_ trying to convince himself to forgive Thorin for the way he acted in the first part of the journey. This was going to put a major damper on that as well.

Bilbo longed to cut, to help regulate the surging emotions in his system, but he knew he had pushed himself almost to the limit the night before. He couldn't risk spilling more of his blood now. Not for a few days at least. He would have to give in and cry, as much as that pained him. Honestly, it hurt more to cry than to bleed. But he let the tears come and he didn't fight them. He let them roll down his cheeks and soak the collar of his tunic as his shoulders shook with sobs. He hated crying, but right now he just couldn't stop.

Legolas heard Bilbo start to cry through the door, and he couldn't help but glow red with anger for the Dwarf who had caused those tears. Bilbo wanted Legolas to bring Thorin a book. Maybe he would have a little chat with the Dwarf while he was there. In fact, he wasn't busy at the moment. He would stop by the library and then pay a visit to the King. Legolas didn't even pay attention to what book he was grabbing, he could care less if it was in a language Thorin could read. It was a book, and that's all Bilbo had asked.

Thorin was back in the place they had found him in that morning, sitting on his bed with his face in his hands. Though this time his shoulders slumped with sorrow and guilt. Legolas tossed the book through the bars, and it landed with a loud THUNK that made Thorin jump and look up. For half a second Thorin looked hopeful that maybe Bilbo had come back with Legolas, but then his whole face darkened and his shoulders set defensively.

"How. Dare. You." Legolas hissed. He had never been so angry before. It was true, he didn't know Bilbo that well. But the Hobbit was so kind, and sweet, and stronger than any of the Dwarves probably knew. And to think that Thorin had hurt him! He shuddered to think of _anyone_ hurting Bilbo, _ever_!

"Piss off." Thorin grunted, ready to ignore the Elf.

"If it weren't for Bilbo you would be trapped down here for the rest of your miserable life, Dwarf. The only reason my father believes your ridiculous story about going to the Iron Hills is because of him. And in the first five minutes he was down here, you put marks on his skin." The Prince seethed. Thorin flinched, actually flinched, and then his glare turned into pure fire.

"Do you honestly think I'm proud of what I did? I have never been more ashamed of myself! And I do not need a snotty, self righteous Elf here to make me feel worse!" He yelled.

"Have you hurt him before? He said he was used to bruises. Is this a regular occurrence for Thorin Oakenshield? Hit him and then say you're sorry?"

"I would never hurt-"

"You just did!" Silence filled the dungeon and the two males glared at each other with flaming eyes. "You don't deserve Bilbo. If I had the power my father has, you would never see him again." Legolas sneered before turning and leaving. Surprisingly, there was no scathing remark from Thorin as he walked away. Silence followed him all the way to the door of the Deep Dungeons, and once the door slammed shut, Thorin Oakenshield allowed himself to cry.

OOOOO


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: Hello! I have brought you more angst and emotional distress! Aren't I nice! And shit starts to go down in the chapter, just do you know. Be prepared. Enjoy!_

OOOOO

"I heard you have some new bruises to attend to." Bilbo jumped in surprise and looked over his shoulder at the Elvenking. He hadn't heard his door open, but he was concentrating fairly intently. He was thinking about what happened in the dungeons. How Thorin had changed into a totally different person. A very scary person. He didn't think it was just because of his hatred for Thranduil. There was something very different about this. His mind kept cycling back to the conversation he'd overheard in Rivendell, between Elrond and Gandalf.

Gold Sickness, they'd called it. The thing that got Thror. But, they were still so far from the mountain, and the treasures within. Could Thorin really be suffering this..._affliction_ when they were still so far away? And why did it make him so violent? To his understanding, Thror was never violent, just obsessive and possessive and irrational. But Thorin...if this is what would happen to the King in the future, how could Bilbo continue on?

He didn't want to leave the Dwarves, but he didn't want to be hurt either. And while it was true that he was hurting himself, it was because his inner self hurt. And Thorin inflicting pain on him made his emotions, his soul, tear itself apart. Already he was contemplating how long he would have to wait before being able to use the knife again. He wondered- Thranduil. The king was there, and had said something important. Something that he had completely ignored and lapsed back into his thoughts. What kind of a guest was he?

"They're not that bad." Bilbo murmured, subconsciously rubbing at the long, thick bruises left on his chest from the bars of the cell. Thranduil closed the distance between himself and the Halfling, curiously quirking an eyebrow.

"May I see them?" He asked, fingers already trailing over the collar of Bilbo shirt. The Hobbit looked up at him with impossibly large eyes, still wary of his host, but nodded. Thranduil held out his hand for Bilbo to take and led him to the bed. With Bilbo on higher ground, the Elvenking proceeded to slowly untie the laces that held together his sleep shirt. He'd had to change from his tunic to the shirt after his crying bout. The tunic was currently covered in snot and tears and it was just...icky. The Hobbit was quiet, biting his lip nervously, as Thranduil pushed the fabric of his shirt to his sides, baring his chest to the King.

Surprisingly cold fingers started trailing down his chest, lightly feeling the swollen and sore skin. Thranduil was glad to find that the bruises were all relatively shallow and they would heal in a week or two. His attention caught on the finger shaped bruises that just barely peeked out of Bilbo's shirt on his shoulder. He frowned and eased the cloth away from Bilbo's shoulder, taking note of the darker shade that these bruises held. It filled him with a deep primal anger to think of Oakenshield leaving marks on Bilbo. It just wasn't right.

"Has he ever hurt you before?" Thranduil asked, locking eyes with Bilbo. The Hobbit shook his head adamantly, but Thranduil only quirked an eyebrow.

"Not physically." Bilbo muttered softly, avoiding the King's gaze. A finger slid under his chin and brought his face back up to look at Thranduil.

"Why do you continue to journey with them?" He asked, a bit of disgust in his voice.

"I want to!" Bilbo was not going to mention the contract, or the apology Thorin gave him at Beorn's. He doubted that would help anything. "He never meant to hurt me. He just got...carried away." Bilbo tried to insist, but Thranduil didn't look impressed. "And besides, we're not journeying anywhere at the moment." He added, gaining a smirk from the King.

"No, you're not. Though Master Balin and I have come to an agreement and I have consented to release them tomorrow." He acknowledged, but then his smirk dropped and a solemn look overtook his fair face. "I do have ulterior motives for coming to your chambers tonight Bilbo. There is something we must speak of." Thranduil murmured in such a serious, stony voice that it gave Bilbo shivers.

"Your majesty?" Bilbo had never seen Thranduil's eyes so dark. The King sat next to the Hobbit and gently secured his hand around Bilbo's wrist as if to ensure that Bilbo could not run away.

"The clothes you wore when you entered my Kingdom, they are deeply stained with blood. Of course, they were so filthy that no one noticed the blood at first. But I was informed this morning of the nature of the stains. You have not allowed us to examine you for injuries, but I must insist." Thranduil explained icily.

"P-Please, I am quite fine! I do not require physical care." Bilbo tried to implore.

"It is not my concern that you need healing, as I am quite sure you have conquered the art of caring for your...numerous wounds. My concern is the nature of said wounds. It is my belief that they are self inflicted. Am I correct?" The way Bilbo couldn't seem to meet his eyes said everything. Thranduil swiftly pushed up the sleeve of Bilbo's shirt, his analyzing eyes taking in ever new and old wound. Bilbo sobbed sharply but let Thranduil take in the sight. After a few minutes, during which Thranduil said nothing and Bilbo cried quietly, Bilbo began to fear.

"I-I'm sorry if I've distressed you, King Thranduil." He choked out nervously. Thranduil sighed heavily and slowly stroked his thumb over a few scars, avoiding the numerous fresh wounds.

"I assume you only started this after you joined the Dwarves on their journey." He muttered, somewhat angrily. Bilbo could only nod in answer. "Do the Dwarves know?"

"No! P-Please, you can't tell them! Especially not Thorin!" Bilbo begged, tugging his arm away from Thranduil.

"Of course not. It should be you who tells them." Thranduil said pointedly. "I do not think it wise to let you continue on your journey. Especially not if _this_ is how you cope with emotional distress. You and the Dwarves can deny it all day long, but I know you are going to Erebor. And once you get there, you will see a very different side to Thorin Oakenshield. One even worse than the one you know now." He said solemnly. Bilbo sniffled and looked at him worriedly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that the moment Thorin steps foot in the treasury, he will begin to change. He will fall prey to the madness that took his grandfather and his father, and which has taken many of his relatives. Gold Sickness will make him someone you do not want to know, especially based on his behavior today." He warned. Bilbo swallowed thickly, remembering the conversation he overheard between Gandalf and Elrond while they were in Rivendell, about Gold Sickness.

"B-But what if it doesn't affect him? What if he doesn't get sick?" Bilbo sounded sickeningly hopeful.

"I highly doubt he will be immune where better men have been vulnerable. His Madness will have a big impact on you, because you feel much deeper than the Dwarves do. And you obviously cannot handle such emotions in a constructive way." Thranduil pressed his thumb down against a scar, and though it didn't hurt, Bilbo still flinched.

"I have to go with them! Why would you want to keep me here?" Bilbo asked scarcely.

"I am not letting you continue on with the company. And that is final Bilbo Baggins." Thranduil snapped and got up, pulling Bilbo along by his wrist.

"W-Where are we going?" Bilbo asked, a little panicked.

"To the healer." Thranduil muttered. Bilbo didn't say anything as they walked, too busy trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. Was Thranduil really not going to let him leave? How would he tell the Dwarves that? They would demand to know why, and he couldn't just tell them about his cutting! And he had to go on! He had come so far, seen and faced so much, and Erebor was so close! He couldn't stay in Mirkwood!

"Are you really going to force me to stay here?" Bilbo choked out. Thranduil hardly spared him a glance over his shoulder and nodded.

"I am doing it for your own good Bilbo." Thranduil tried to sound emotionless, like he usually did, but Bilbo could hear some kind of feeling in his voice. He thought it sounded like hurt.

"B-But I thought I was your guest! Can't guests decide when they leave?"

"Not when they are a danger to themselves. The Dwarves do not know, so they cannot try to protect you from yourself. You will go on with this destructive habit, and you may end up dead from it." Bilbo shuddered at the thought, considering he had come close to such a fate just last night.

"W-What if I told them? What if I promised to stop!" Bilbo said desperately. Thranduil snorted a laugh that just screamed that he didn't believe Bilbo.

"I think you would say anything to me if it meant you could leave. But I know you will never tell the Dwarves. If they ever find out, it will be because they see and confront you." He did have a point. "So you will stay here and you will heal." He said decisively. They arrived at the healing room and Thranduil pushed Bilbo onto the bed so the healer could examine him. "Bind his hands when you have finished bandaging his injuries." Thranduil told the healer before leaving. Bilbo's heart jumped to his throat and he tried to protest. But the healer was loyal to Thranduil, and would not be doing him any favors.

It took nearly an hour for the healer to finish applying salve and wrapping bandages, and then he took out two more rolls of white fabric. He wrapped them firmly around Bilbo's palms and fingers so he couldn't move them. It was like having two stumps instead of hands. Suddenly he felt a teenie bit of sympathy for Azog. But that vanished quickly. The healer made sure Bilbo wouldn't be able to remove the bindings on his hands and then shooed him away. Legolas was waiting for him outside the healing room.

"Legolas..." Bilbo knew that the Prince knew. It was obvious from the way his eyes examined Bilbo intently. And the frown on his face.

"Did he make you do this? Was it Thorin that drove you to this?" Legolas asked, his hostility barely contained.

"N-No!" Bilbo denied. Legolas gave him an unimpressed look. "N-Not just him..." Bilbo sniffled, gluing his eyes to his wrapped up hands. It felt uncomfortable, like he was a child again and wearing mittens so he wouldn't scratch in his sleep. He remembered the mittens his mother made after the first few times he woke up bloody armed. These felt remarkably similar, but they were tighter and thicker and Bilbo couldn't just slip them off once he woke up. And they felt like a visible badge of shame. A sign for everyone to see, so that they would know that he was doing something terrible to himself.

"I'm supposed to take you to your room." Legolas told him. "And I'm not supposed to let you out until the Dwarves are gone tomorrow." He added. Bilbo felt himself tear up and he sniffled wretchedly.

"C-Can you take me to see them? Before you take me to my room? Just so I can tell them." Bilbo pleaded, blinking his huge eyes at the Elf. And Legolas was powerless against it. He sighed and nodded, putting his arm around Bilbo's shoulder as they walked. When they go to the dungeons, Bilbo was relieved to see that only two Dwarves were still awake. Balin and Dwalin were up, discussing something in whispers, and they looked up when Bilbo came in with Legolas. The Elf stayed by the door, but kept a firm eye on Bilbo.

"Bilbo. Are yeh alright? Yeh look white as a ghost. What are those things on yer hands?" Dwalin pointed out, crinkling his brows in confusion. Bilbo sniffled, trying hard not to cry. Crying wouldn't help in this situation, at all.

"I just came to tell you...I can't leave with you tomorrow." Bilbo told them, avoiding either pair of eyes. There was a stunned silence before Balin stood and took Bilbo's shoulder through the bars of the cell.

"What happened?" He asked knowingly.

"I-I...I did something bad. I've been doing it for so long now. And Thranduil found out. He's not going to let me go with you. He says I can't leave." Bilbo admitted, laying his forehead against the bars. Dwalin stood and stormed to the door of the cell.

"Who the hell is he to say whether or not yeh can leave?" Dwalin yelled furiously, and Balin shushed him. A few of the sleeping Dwarves murmured in their sleep, but none woke up. It was amazing to Bilbo, what Dwarves could sleep through. "Yer a part of our company, and yer an adult Hobbit, capable of making yer own decisions." Dwalin added at a quieter tone.

"Bilbo, what is this...bad thing that you did?" Balin asked, sounding much calmer than he felt. Bilbo sniffled and wiped at a stray tears that forced itself from his eyes.

"I...promise me you won't get mad. Or tell Thorin." Bilbo pleaded. Dwalin and Balin looked at each other, and though Dwalin was hesitant to hide something from his leader, and friend, he eventually agreed. Balin nodded as well and Bilbo took a few deep breaths to prepare himself for what he was going to admit. In the end, he couldn't think of what to say, so as best as he could manage with the mittens, he pulled up the sleeves of his shirt. The stark white bandages that went from his wrist to his elbows were like an admission in and of themselves. Balin at least understood immediately. It took Dwalin a moment longer.

"Yer hurting yerself?" Dwalin asked, honestly shocked. He never would have thought...not Bilbo. The Hobbit always seemed far too innocent, too naive, to do something like this. But Bilbo nodded in admission, shame coloring his cheeks. "That's why yeh've been wakin up bloody?" Again Bilbo nodded.

"How long has this been going on?" Balin asked, still sounding remarkably calm. Bilbo rubbed at his dripping nose, cringing at the line of snot on the elvish shirt.

"B-Before the trolls." Bilbo whispered. Balin sighed and wrapped Bilbo in a hug, at least a sort of hug what with the bars between them. "Y-You can't tell anyone. Please." He whimpered. "Just tell them that I got sick, and that Thranduil will send me on my way once I'm better." He hoped the Elvenking would keep his mouth shut as well. He had said it was Bilbo's duty to tell the Dwarves, but knowing Thranduil and Thorin's anger issues when together...it might slip out.

"Bilbo we're not leaving you here." Balin whispered, and with the snores of Gloin and Oin between them and Legolas, Bilbo thought maybe the Prince wouldn't hear this time. "We'll get you out, I promise." He added before letting go. "You need to rest, you look like you're about to faint." He said decisively. Bilbo nodded and sadly looked from Balin to Dwalin and back. He didn't see how it would be possible for them to get him out.

"Good night." Bilbo murmured.

"Night Bilbo." Dwalin sighed patting Bilbo's shoulder. Bilbo winced, because it was his bruised shoulder, but Dwalin didn't notice.

"Good night Master Baggins." Balin said formally before patting Bilbo's other shoulder. "Off ya go." Bilbo looked back at them a few times as he walked back to Legolas, but then the Prince opened the door and ushered Bilbo out and he couldn't see any of the Dwarves anymore. Somehow he felt he'd never see them again.

Legolas led him silently back to his room but when he opened the door for Bilbo, who could not really use doorknobs at the moment, he went into the room with Bilbo. The Hobbit sniffled and looked at the Elf curiously. Legolas said nothing, simply went to the closet which had been stocked with a few different outfits for Bilbo, and pulled out a sleep shirt.

"W-What are you doing?" Bilbo asked, a mixture of curious and horrified, because he thought he probably knew what Legolas was doing.

"Helping you dress, Master Baggins." Legolas replied simply, and stiffly. He would not look directly at Bilbo, his eyes analyzing everything but Bilbo's face. For some reason that hurt Bilbo more than anything. Legolas couldn't even look at him now. And it was that guilt and self disgust that lessened the embarrassment he would have felt at any other time, having to be dressed by someone else because he had no use of his hands. When Legolas was done tying Bilbo's shirt closed, his hands remained in the loops of the bow he just made. They rested lightly against Bilbo's chest and if the Hobbit weren't so worried, he might have blushed.

After only a few moment, Legolas shook his head and dropped his hands, taking Bilbo's wrist to lead him to bed. He let Bilbo scramble up by himself, but once again he hesitated at the side of Bilbo's bed, looking down at the fine sheets with a somewhat troubled look on his face. Bilbo was about to ask if he was okay when Legolas sat and finally met eyes with him once more.

"I know you do not wish to stay here Bilbo. I know you wish to continue on with your Dwarves. But you and I both know it is better for you to stay. My fathers order is for your benefit. Before you met this Company, before you left your home, would you ever have put a knife to your skin?" Legolas demanded, and Bilbo could only look down at his wrapped hands in shame. "I do not wish for you to be miserable. You act as though staying here is some punishment, but continuing on could very well be the death of you. Can you really fault my father and me for making you stay, when all we wish is for you to be safe. From yourself and from the horrors you would encounter in the wilds."

"I have faced many horrors already!" Bilbo reminded him with a frown.

"And look what that has done to you!" Legolas snapped, before schooling himself and lowering his voice once again. "You are a Hobbit. Creatures of love and joy and merriment, or so I was told. And yet I see you as nothing more than a shell. A pained, sorrowful being who must hurt himself so he does not cry every night. That is what this journey has done to you! You told my father and me that your mother would be so proud of you going on an adventure. Do you believe she feels pride when you draw blood from your veins to drip down your skin?" Bilbo could say nothing, his throat suddenly feeling much too tight.

Legolas sighed and reached forward to brush his long fingers through golden curls. Bilbo sniffled and tried not to lean into the touch. The fact was, he adored contact and comfort. It was why he missed Beorn so very much. Why he missed his parents... But Legolas was angry with him. He should not seek comfort from someone who was angry with him. As if Legolas could read his thoughts, the Elf trailed his touch down Bilbo's cheek and under his chin, where his fingers applied pressure to turn Bilbo's face up. Once he caught the Hobbit's eyes, he spoke.

"I feared greatly when my father came to me and told me that you were hurt. And when he told me it was by your own hand that you were hurt...I felt like weeping. I have not wept in hundreds of years, Bilbo. I am overwhelmingly fond of you, little Hobbit. The short amount of time I have spent in your company has been more than enough to confirm that. I ache to know that you hurt so much within that you had to make your pain manifest through a blade in your flesh. I wish for nothing more than to put an end to such actions. And the pain behind them." Legolas told him. "I am not angry, I am confused and pained by your actions. I am scared."

"But you are a warrior. I have seen you destroy a nest of giant spiders! You were not scared then!" Bilbo insisted. Legolas allowed himself a small smile.

"This is a very different kind of fear than the kind one feels when facing a dangerous opponent. This fear is because I do not know what to do to help you. Or if I even can. I feel helpless, and that terrifies me. All I want to do is help you, and I do not know how. It is very distressing." Bilbo's brow crinkled in confusion.

"But why would you care so much about me that you would experience such fear. I have only been in this Kingdom for two days now."

"And yet I know much about you. And I know I wish to learn more. I wish to learn everything. And I wish to make you happy. Do you understand what I am trying to say Bilbo?" Legolas asked, suddenly looking shy. Bilbo shook his head, because even if he did, he wanted Legolas to say it in case he was wrong. "You are a friend to me, or at least I consider you a friend. And I...one day hope...that perhaps we can be more than friends. For Elves, sometimes it takes forever to find someone they wish to love and cherish. But sometimes, it takes but a moment to know, without a shadow of a doubt, who they will come to adore above all others."

Bilbo didn't know what to say. And even if he did, he doubted he could say it. He couldn't fully comprehend what Legolas was saying, though it was simple enough. But...why him? It made no sense! And frankly, Bilbo didn't want it to make sense! He wanted Legolas to take his words back. Not because he was in love with someone else (though he was and would not admit it to himself). But because Legolas was immortal and perfect and he deserved someone much better than a damaged, mortal Hobbit.

"I-I can't. I can't be that person." He choked out, once he found his voice again. Legolas looked as though he'd been physically slapped by Bilbo's words, but he cleared his throat and nodded. "I do like you Legolas, very much, and you have been very kind to me. But I do not intend to be anybody's love. I do not intend to ever be cherished or adored. And at the moment, I do not want to be. I do not love myself, and therefore, I do not want anyone else to either." A glimmer of hope for the _future_ lit in Legolas' eyes and he nodded again.

"I do understand Bilbo." He whispered. His hand returned to softly petting Bilbo's curls. "But...would you allow me to be your friend? To look out for you as you stay here? I can teach you many Elf games and I can bring you any kind of book you wish. I can show you the whole kingdom." He offered hopefully. And though Bilbo was still distressed about being forced to stay, he nodded. He had already denied Legolas one thing tonight. Legolas smiled and ushered Bilbo to lay down. "Breakfast and lunch will be brought to you tomorrow. But I will see you for dinner. By then, the Dwarves will be gone."

For some reason, the thought of the Dwarves going without him made Bilbo's stomach clench. He knew he was not important, not really, to them. But he wondered if they would even care that he would be staying. Balin and Dwalin appeared to be very upset over it, but Balin was kind by nature, and Dwalin was most likely more annoyed that the Elves were keeping him than anything. He knew he would miss them, all of them. Even Thorin. They may have been terrible to him in the beginning, and they may still give him loaded glances. But he was not alone with them, as he had been for so long. Though, he supposed, he wouldn't be alone in Mirkwood either.

"Good night." Bilbo murmured, sounding alarmingly emotionless as he said it. Legolas' brow wrinkled in concern, but Bilbo was staring blankly up at the canopy of his bed now. Not looking at Legolas. The Elf sighed, brushed through his curls one more time, and then blew out the candle near the bed.

"Good night Bilbo." He said softly and left with a few backward glances. Bilbo remained awake, staring at the ceiling in a somewhat desolate state, for a few more minutes before exhaustion took a hold of him and dragged him down into unconsciousness.

OOOOO

Bilbo was sitting in the window sill, watching the river run lazily by, and feeling very pitiful for himself. He had finally gotten his clothes back, and they were as spotless as when he left his home. But it was Legolas who had to dress him, because of his hands. He had never felt so embarrassed in his life, and he's been traveling with Dwarves for months! Without the guilt and self loathing he felt the night before, he was now able to take the full brunt of the embarrassment, and his cheeks were very red. He felt like a child, one who no one trusted to take care of himself. He was sulking in his own personal pity party when his door suddenly exploded open and Fili and Kili spilled in. He was given exactly no time to ask questions, the two young Dwarves made shushing motions and beckoned him forward.

"We only have a few minutes. Get on Fili's back, beneath his cloak." Kili commanded, lifting said cloak. Bilbo just sat there, mouth gaping, as he looked at the two. Were they...were they trying to kidnap him from the Elvenking's palace? "Bilbo, come on!" Kili commanded, and the Hobbit jumped at the urgency in his tone. He quickly complied this time, jumping up and pacing over to the pair. Kili gestured to Fili's back again, but Bilbo realized something.

"I-I can't hold on to him." Bilbo looked down at his hands and frowned. Fili and Kili exchanged looks and then Fili unbuckled his belt.

"I'll hold you up, and he'll do the belt around you both." Kili explained. Bilbo was picked up and shoved against Fili's back before he could complain about their tactic. The belt was tight around the two of them, but his mind was too busy buzzing to really notice the pinch of the leather. The Dwarves were going to get him out! Just like Balin promised! He had not really believed the older Dwarf. After all, he was always a liability to the company, the whole time. Why would they now want him around? Had Bilbo missed something along the way?

"Tuck your legs up so the Elves don't see them." Fili told him before they were back in the hallway and heading towards the room where the other Dwarves were collecting their things and preparing to go. Shockingly, no Elves were present to watch them, which Dwalin would find suspicious if he didn't know what a pain the ass Thorin was being to Thranduil at the moment. The King had broke the news about Bilbo staying to the whole company at one time, and they all naturally complained and cursed him. But Thorin...he took anger to a whole new level.

"Dwalin, we got him." Kili hissed when they walked up to the warrior. Bilbo felt a hefty pat on his back, as if to make sure, and then a grunt of content. There was a little more shuffling around before Dwalin started commanding the company.

"Everybody stand around Fili, try to act normal. If yeh can, don't say anything at all, and don't make eye contact with any of the tree shaggers. If any of them get suspicious about the bump on his back, do something to distract the leaf eater, got it?" Dwalin commanded. The Company quickly agreed and did as they were told, making a protective clump around the older Durin. Bilbo felt different Dwarves brush past him, and Bofur even patted him on the shoulder with a quiet 'good luck' under his breath. And then they were all moving, only stopping when the voices of Thorin, Thranduil and Balin came into Bilbo's hearing range. And oh did Thorin sound pleased. Pleased to be infuriated, that is.

"You cannot keep him here! He is not a prisoner!" Thorin was shouting. "He is a member of my Company, and he is dear to us all! He does not belong in some frilly Elven Kingdom in this horrid forest!" Bilbo heard an exasperated sigh, though he didn't know if it came from Thranduil or Balin. If very well could have been Balin.

"Master Oakenshield, it is in the interest of Bilbo's health that I am keeping him here. Not some petty excuse to piss you off." Thranduil drawled, though he did sound more agitated than usual. Bilbo heard a snicker, but again, was unsure exactly who it came from. Though it did sound suspiciously like Nori...

"I don't believe you!" Thorin yelled, and Bilbo could just imagine the eye roll Thranduil must be giving him. He was fighting one himself. Thorin was always so abrasive.

"Thorin, it's true, what he's saying. Bilbo came to Dwalin and myself last night and told us he was sick. But he'll be on his way as soon as possible." Balin told Thorin, sounding remarkably patient for having to deal with Thorin, but the Dwarf King was not having it.

"If he's just sick, then why isn't he here to see us off? I just saw him yesterday, and he seemed perfectly fine!" Here Bilbo heard a tense pause, wherein he could practically hear the judging words Thranduil was thinking._ 'He seemed perfectly fine until you got a hold of him_.' "He would have told me if he was staying!" Thorin snarled and Bilbo felt his stomach squeeze, because no...he didn't think he would tell Thorin if he was staying.

"Maybe he was too afraid of what you would do to him if he told you." Apparently Legolas was there too. Thorin growled, but Balin spoke up first.

"What are you implying young master Elf?" There was an awkward silence before Legolas scoffed. It was then that Bilbo remembered that none of the others knew about his bruises, which were currently undergoing some serious strain. But he couldn't complain too much, not when the Dwarves were trying to help him escape. Still, it would be an awkward conversation if it ever did come up.

"It is not our job to explain the situation. Bilbo is staying here, and that is that. I suggest you be on your way." Thranduil ordered icily. Bilbo heard Dwalin and Balin whispering fiercely to Thorin, who kept growling like an angry warg, before he apparently gave up and huffed an irritated snarl.

"Fine. We will go on our way without him. But if you do not release Master Baggins the moment he is well, I will come for him myself." Thorin threatened, but even Bilbo wasn't impressed. He could practically feel the condescension radiating off of the King and Legolas, and almost every Dwarf as well. After all, what could one Dwarf, King or not, really do in such a situation? The Elves had all the physical advantage, as well as a mental advantage, as hard as that was to admit. Bilbo was fond of the Dwarves, but they weren't exactly the brightest.

"Naturally, Thorin." Thranduil droned. "My men will escort you to the boarder of my Kingdom, and from there you can take the path to the Lake Town." Bilbo heard a door open, and a cool breeze made it's way under the cloak. Thorin remained for a few minutes before barking out an order in Khuzdul to get the Dwarves to start walking.

Bilbo knew that, based off the view from his window, it would take at least a few hours for them to reach the boarder of Mirkwood. And he had to stay hidden the whole way. If he revealed himself before that time, he would be taken back to the palace and probably placed under heavy guard. Maybe even put in the dungeons. Because even though they were out of the palace, so long as they were within the Elvenking's boundaries, Thranduil had power over whether or not Bilbo came or went. He would only really be free when they left Mirkwood. He only hoped they got out before it was discovered that he was gone.

OOOOO

_AN: Well how was it? Did I drown you in my feels? If so, I have some funny fluffy Song Fics if you need a pick me up. All propaganda aside, I hope you liked the chapter and I will see you next Friday for the next! I adore reviews, but don't feel obligated. They just make me feel better about myself. Have a nice day/night/whatever!_


	5. Chapter 5

_AN: Hello all! Here I have given you another chapter! In which much shit hits a big ass fan. Enjoy! Also, Helena, do you mind an Autumn ceremony? I'm not much of a spring or summer person. ;)_

OOOOO

"We leave you here, Master Dwarf." One of the Elf guides said formally. They had been walking for some time, but the darkness of Mirkwood was not giving Bilbo any real indication of how long exactly. But his heart fluttered with those words. They were almost out of Mirkwood. He could see a bit of light from beneath the cloak, the sun. He hadn't felt the sun on his skin in so long! He could almost taste it!

"Stop them!" All the hope in his heart froze at Legolas' shout. "Don't let them leave the forest!" Fili started running, as did all the Dwarves from the sound of it. It was a very good thing they were so close to the boarder, or they'd never make it. Fili stepped out of the forest just before an Elf could grab him and then promptly kept running so as to get a fair distance away. When he came to stop, both he and Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief.

"Did everyone make it?" Bilbo whispered from beneath the cloak, and he felt more than saw Fili nod his head.

"You will return Master Baggins to my care immediately!" Legolas yelled from the edge of the forest, glaring hatefully at the Dwarves.

"You lost him?!" Thorin roared a few feet away.

"Uncle-" Fili started to speak, but was cut off.

"You lost Bilbo and you think we have him?! How could you-"

"Uncle!" Fili shouted. "We do have Bilbo." He unbuckled his belt and Bilbo let out a little huff as he felt off Fili's back, onto his bum.

"A little warning would have been nice." Bilbo muttered with a half hearted glare up at Fili. Fili grinned sheepishly and held out a hand to help him up.

"Bilbo! You must return with me! You know it is better that way!" Legolas called, his face softening. Balin came over and checked that Bilbo was whole and unharmed before turning with a diplomatic face to Legolas.

"Do not fear for him, Master Elf, he will be well looked after." Balin promised, but Legolas didn't know that Balin knew about the cutting.

"You do not know what you're doing! It's for his own good that he should remain in Mirkwood! He is a danger to himself!" Bilbo looked down at his hands, still wrapped up tight, and flinched. Balin noticed and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. But Bilbo didn't feel any better. He felt like he was wearing a big, bright sign that proclaimed his guilt for all to see. He wanted the bindings off!

"What does he speak of Balin?" Thorin asked, obviously still shocked that Bilbo was there and not in the palace. The King's eyes lingered on Bilbo's bound hands, but then moved back up to his ashamed face.

"Thorin it's not for us to talk about. If Bilbo wanted yeh to know, he would tell yeh." Dwalin said firmly. But Thorin as not going to give up this time. He frowned and grabbed Bilbo by the front of his shirt.

"I've grown tired of never knowing what everyone else seems to know perfectly well. Elrond, Beorn, the goddamn Elves, even my own adviser and my best friend! Now tell me what this all means this instant!" He demanded, stopping himself from shaking the wide eyed Hobbit. Bilbo's mouth opened and closed a few times, but he didn't seem able to speak. "You! Elf! Tell me what this is about!" Thorin hissed at Legolas.

"I would sooner shake hands with Smaug himself! Take your hands off him!" Legolas hissed right back. "Unless you plan to repeat what happened in the dungeons." He added, with dark, accusing eyes. Instantly Thorin released his hold on Bilbo's shirt and the Hobbit stumbled away a few steps.

"What is he talking about Thorin?" Dwalin asked, eyes narrowing. Thorin didn't seem able to put it into words either. But Legolas was more than happy to.

"Show them Bilbo. Show them exactly what Thorin did." Bilbo looked around at all the pairs of eyes staring at him and backed away from them all. He felt dizzy, like he might faint, but that wouldn't help anything. Not that he could really prevent himself from fainting. "Show them the bruises." Legolas added, and then all the eyes went to Thorin.

"Bruises? What did yeh do Thorin?" Bofur asked, gaping a little.

"I...it was an accident...I never meant to..." Thorin choked out, his eyes glued to the still retreating Hobbit. Bilbo was taking little steps back, until he was on the other side of the wide dirt path from the group of Dwarves.

"What. Did. You. Do?" Dwalin demanded, grabbing Thorin by his shoulder.

"He crushed Bilbo against the bars of his cell, and left a perfect hand print on his shoulder." Legolas supplied from the treeline. Several gasps came from the company and the eyes returned to Bilbo. "It's nothing compared to what Bilbo has done to himself. That's why it's better that he stay in Mirkwood." Almost all the Dwarves looked completely confused. Balin and Dwalin looked frustrated with Legolas, and Thorin looked ashamed.

"Master Baggins will be continuing with us, Master Elf. My brother and I are perfectly capable of watching over him and making sure he remains healthy." Balin said stonily to Legolas. "If you are so concerned for him, why don't you tag along?" Balin was certainly not expecting Legolas to accept such an offer. He was an Elf, after all, and Elves just didn't travel with Dwarves! So when Legolas grinned and nodded, Balin felt his self assured face fall.

"I think I shall." Legolas stated before walking over to Bilbo. The Hobbit flinched for a moment but when Legolas knelt next to him to be eye level, he didn't stumble away. "And I'll be watching him very carefully." Legolas murmured, his eyes dropping to Bilbo's arms, which were currently being cradled against his chest. "I suggest you keep the binds on his hands. It will be easier that way." He added, in a louder voice, to the Dwarves.

"But...I still don't understand! How could Bilbo be a danger to himself?" Kili exclaimed, thoroughly put out with the whole situation. Legolas looked back at Bilbo, quirking an eyebrow.

"Will you tell them Bilbo? Or will you make them wonder and worry?" Bilbo looked towards the Dwarves, who were all pleading for an answer without even speaking a word. It was all too much. Too much had happened, had already been exposed, in only a few minutes. His head was spinning and he was dizzy and he couldn't keep it at bay any longer. With a whimper he passed out, Legolas jumping to catch him before he hit the ground.

"Lay him down!" Oin called, rushing over. "Undo a few of the buttons under his chin, and prop up his head." He added, lapsing into Healer mode. He checked Bilbo's pulse, and his airway, before deciding they would just have to wait for him to come to. An awkward silence settled for a few moments before Oin turned to the other buttons on Bilbo's vest and shirt.

"What are you doing?" Thorin asked, sounding nervous.

"I'm checking his bruises." Oin replied in an icy voice and with a glare at Thorin. The Dwarf King flinched, and glanced around at glares he was getting from all the others present as well. Oin finished with the buttons and pushed Bilbo's shirt apart, frowning at the sight of the long, dark bruises on his chest, as well as the hand print on his shoulder. Thorin could only look for a moment before he had to turn away, his heart clenching painfully at the sight of what he'd done. Oin searched quickly through his pack, pulling out a container of gooey salve to spread on the swollen skin.

"What were you talking about? About Bilbo being a danger to himself?" Kili asked quietly, looking at Legolas not with hate, but with concern. Legolas looked from Dwarf to Dwarf before his eyes rested on Bilbo.

"My father discovered that Bilbo's clothes were stained with blood, and he confronted him about it. The blood is from self inflicted cuts all over Bilbo's arms and legs." Legolas told them finally. No one could say anything for a very long time, and Thorin couldn't even seem to process the news.

"H-How long has he..." Fili couldn't finish the question, but they all understood what he was asking.

"Before the trolls, he said." Balin admitted, brushing curls off Bilbo's face.

"How could we not have noticed?" Bofur wondered, his voice cracking as he spoke.

"He's never complained about injuries, even after going through the Misty Mountains, or after Azog's attack. He's never asked for me to look him over, and he always said he was fine when I asked if I could." Oin pointed out.

"But he woke up with blood on his hands every day while we were going through Mirkwood! We should have insisted!" Ori lamented.

"Well we can't change the past! But we know now. And now we can help him" Kili reminded them. "We should start moving towards Lake Town." He added, glancing up at the path that led to the floating city. They all nodded and mumbled agreements and Legolas volunteered to carry Bilbo. He was given only stink eyes in return for volunteering, and Dwalin was chosen to carry the unconscious Hobbit. They set off, no one really talking, but everyone thinking, their brains buzzing like hurricanes. No one wanted to think about the most important thing. Why Bilbo had started such a destructive habit. Instead they all just shuffled on, pretending that they weren't all thinking the exact same thing.

OOOOO

Bard of Lake Town was not an ambitious Man. Sure, he'd like to see the Master kicked off his high pedestal, but most of the people in Lake Town wanted that. And Bard certainly didn't want to take the Master's place! He had a family to take care of, he didn't want to be responsible for a whole city that seemed to be made up of troubles. So he didn't understand why the Master was having him and his family watched. The pathetic old man was just grasping at straws.

He was thinking so intently about how much he hated the Master, that he didn't see the small creature running frantically until he was promptly run into and thrown nearly off balance and into the water. He saved himself, and the small creature, at the last moment and had to take a couple of second to calm his rapidly beating heart before he could look down at what was currently clinging to him, obviously still in shock from nearly taking a dip in the freezing canal.

"Hello." Bard murmured, and a small face looked up at him in alarm. Impossibly big blue eyes were suddenly directed at him and a small lip quivered.

"I-I'm so s-sorry!" The little man practically squeaked and backed away from the staring Lake Man. "I wasn't watching where I was going. I'm sorry." The boy started looking around frantically, searching the nearby crowd for something, or someone.

"Are you okay?" Bard asked, though he was hesitant. The boy jumped and shook his head.

"They're looking for me. I have to go somewhere they won't find me." He said woefully. Bard recoiled, but looked the boy over again. No shoes, but large furry feet. Horribly ripped and dirty clothes. Bandages wrapped tight around his hands, preventing him from using them. And there were a fair amount of tear tracks on his cheeks. He was as small as a human child, but his face was older than that of a child's. All in all, he just looked like he needed help. But he was a stranger, and Bard didn't just trust strangers.

"Hey, who is after you? And why?" The boy opened his mouth to tell him, but shouts started coming from further down in the market. There were about four or five different voices, all calling loudly for 'Bilbo'.

"Please, do you know somewhere I can hide?" The boy was about an inch from crying, Bard could see it. And he looked so scared. Bard decided that just this once, he would let himself trust a stranger. If it came back to bite him in the ass...well he would never do something so stupid again.

"Come this way. Quickly." He gestured for the boy...man...thing to follow him and set off at a quick pace. He would finish his shopping later, or send Sigrid out for it. He navigated the back alleys and small bridges of the town with absolute precision, looking over his shoulder frequently to make sure the boy was still following him. When they reached his home, Bard ushered the boy in and looked around quickly before shutting his door.

"Da? Who's this?" Sigrid asked from where she was washing dishes. Tilda's head popped up from where she was coloring on the floor and Bain leaned peeked through the curtain that separated his room from the kitchen.

"Uh...what's your name?" Bard asked the boy, feeling a little embarrassed that he hadn't asked sooner. The boy finished catching his breath and then cleared his throat.

"I'm Bilbo." He told them, with a short bow. So the calls in the market _were_ for him.

"What are you?" Tilda asked curiously, and Bard almost slapped his palm over his face. Tilda was a very inquisitive child and she was usually very blunt. Most people didn't take kindly to it. But Bilbo just smiled.

"I'm a Hobbit." He said proudly. "And I'm terribly sorry to intrude, I just really need a place to lay low. At least for a little while." He did look like he was about to pass out any second. Bard ushered him to the only padded couch they had. It was here that the binds on Bilbo's hands caught his eye again.

"I think you should explain Bilbo." He suggested. "Sigrid, make a cup of tea for our guest honey. And Bain, will you take your sister out to finish the shopping?" He figured, from the uncomfortable look on Bilbo's face, that the less people present, the better.

"Sure da." Bain murmured, still looking very confused. He helped Tilda up off the floor and handed her the basket. "We'll be back soon." He called over his shoulder before they left the little house. Sigrid pretended to not be interested, as she prepared the tea, but Bard could read his daughter better than she thought. Still, Bilbo looked more at ease.

"Um...first of all, thank you. Very much." Bilbo sounded awkward, but genuine enough. "Er...like I said, my name is Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins. I'm traveling with a company of Dwarves to...the Iron Hills." He said that a bit hesitantly, but Bard didn't stop him to comment on the obvious lie. "I uh...well the journey has been very stressful, especially because I've lived a sheltered, easy life for so long. And my traveling companions...they're not exactly well mannered rays of sunshine." Bilbo chuckled humorlessly and looked down at his wrapped up hands.

"Here you go Mister Bilbo." Sigrid put the cup of tea in front of Bilbo on the table, and Bilbo frowned. He wouldn't be able to drink without the use of his hands. And he was not going to be fed, thank you very much. He was quite sick of that!

"Perhaps I could take off the binds?" Bard suggested, and Bilbo's eyes lit up in such a way that he really did look like a child in that moment. "Unless they're needed-"

"No! No they're not! Please, take them off!" Bilbo begged, holding out his hands enthusiastically. Bard exchanged a glance with Sigrid but began untying the bandages. When Bilbo had one hand free, he simply stared at it for a long time, slowly wiggling his fingers as if he was just barely seeing them for the first time. And then the other was free and he rubbed his palms together, twining his fingers and pulling them apart. The happiest smile stayed on his face the whole time. "Thank you! Oh thank you so much Master- Oh dear...I'm so rude, I didn't even ask for your name!" Bilbo looked aghast with himself.

"Don't fret little friend. I am Bard of Lake Town. This is my daughter Sigrid. My other daughter is Tilda, and my son is Bain. I'll formally introduce them when they get back." Bard explained, and Bilbo relaxed a little. The Hobbit cautiously picked up his tea, his hands shaking ever so slightly, and he took a long sip.

"Again, I cannot thank you enough. And this tea is really very lovely." Bilbo said with a bright smile. Sigrid returned it and Bard let his lips quirk up at the sides.

"Perhaps you could finish explaining?" Bard proposed, and Bilbo nodded.

"Oh yes, of course. Like I said, it's been rather stressful and the company isn't great. I'm afraid that I haven't really handled the stress, and the Dwarves, all that well. I started turning to a rather destructive method of calming myself down and I haven't been able to stop. The Dwarves found out, and now they hardly let me out of their sight. They mother me endlessly and they look at me like I'm not even good enough to be called insane. It's suffocating and it makes me feel terrible and I had to get out! It wasn't easy, what with my inability to use doorknobs with those cursed bandages on my hands! And all the soldiers loitering about the Master's home." Bilbo huffed, rubbing his hands again.

"You were staying in the Master's home?" Sigrid asked, though Bard wasn't sure if her voice was awed or disgusted.

"Unfortunately. He's a most unpleasant man." Bilbo scowled.

"I fully agree. But, tell me, what made the Dwarves go so over the top once they found out? What exactly have you been doing as stress relief?" Bard asked, his eyes watching as Bilbo's hands slid up to his forearms.

"I do not wish to speak of it. All I can say is that they are clearly overreacting! And I never wish to see them again! They'll be on their way in a few days, I just have to lay low until then and when they've gone without me, I can make my way back to my friend Beorn's home. Though I'll have to bypass Mirkwood so that will add quite some time to the journey." Bilbo sighed, rather forlornly. Again Bard and Sigrid exchanged looks.

"Why avoid Mirkwood? Not that I blame you, but you sound rather upset when you speak of it." Bard asked as gently as possible.

"The Elvenking will not let me leave if I enter there again." Bilbo admitted, hugging his arms across his chest. "I wish I had never come on this journey. I should have stayed in Rivendell, or with Beorn. I should have stayed in the Shire and just forgotten all about the Dwarves." Bilbo sounded like he was talking more to himself now. Bard glanced at Sigrid, who was looking at Bilbo with big sad eyes, pity evident in her features.

"You can stay here if you wish. I don't have an extra bed, but the couch is sometimes more comfortable than the mattresses. And I'll bring you news when the Dwarves have gone." Bard suggested and Bilbo's eyes lit up again.

"I-I really couldn't impose-"

"Nonsense, you're not imposing at all. Hobbits are good cooks, aren't they?" Bilbo nodded. "Then if you wish to repay us, simply help with the cooking." Bilbo let a smile grow over his face, and Bard was struck by how adorable he looked when he smiled.

"I...I can't even begin to thank you Master Bard! You have no idea what this means to me!" Bilbo rejoiced, and Bard let himself smile as well.

"I am glad to help master Hobbit." He assured Bilbo.

"You are by far the nicest Man I've ever met! It is such a shame you must live here, under the rule of that hideous Master." Bilbo made a disgusted face as he brought up the Master, and both Bard and Sigrid laughed.

"Yes well...nothing we can do about it. It's been the way of this town for far too long." Bard shrugged. "I think you should get some rest, Master Baggins. You look about ready to pass out." Bilbo yawned on cue and Sigrid ran off to find a pillow and blanket.

"Please, you must call me Bilbo." The Hobbit insisted, letting himself be corralled into laying down.

"Only if you call me Bard." The Lake Man said warmly.

"I think that arrangement could work." Bilbo murmured, sleep already starting to take him. Sigrid reappeared, putting the pillow beneath Bilbo's head and spreading the blanket over him.

"Sleep well Bilbo." Bard smiled.

"Thank you Bard." Bilbo murmured and then he was asleep.

OOOOO

Thorin searched relentlessly through the crowd, scanning every face and every foot for his Hobbit. But they had been looking for near an hour by now and they had not found Bilbo. Fili an and Kili were asking a few vendors if they had seen him, and Legolas had taken to the roofs so as to see further. Dwalin and Thorin were paired up searching, but they were getting no where.

"This is ridiculous, he could be anywhere!" Fili exclaimed, coming up beside Thorin.

"Maybe he went into a house!" Kili suggested.

"Of a stranger? Bilbo is more cautious than that." Fili bit.

"What do we really know about Bilbo Fee? Obviously nothing!" Kili snarled back.

"Enough! Just keep searching. Try a few houses if you want." Thorin growled and followed Dwalin towards another street. As they searched, Thorin couldn't help but think back to when they arrived in Lake Town. Bilbo hadn't woken up yet, after his fainting spell, and he'd been passed from Dwarf to Dwarf periodically. He was being carried by Bofur when they crossed the long wooden pier that led to Lake Town.

All it had taken to gain them entrance was a word from Legolas. And then they were escorted to the Master's house and offered rooms for the week. Though they were only planning on staying for three days at the most. The Dwarves went about settling down and relaxing, Bilbo being given a room with Balin and Dwalin. It was the middle of the night when Bilbo woke up again, and Thorin rushed into their room when he heard yelling. Bilbo was angry, actually angry, that the others had been told his secret, and he demanded that the binds on his hands be taken off. Balin handled him calmly, but in the end, they had to have Oin come sedate the upset Hobbit.

The next day, while most of the company were out buying supplies for the last leg of their journey, Bilbo was left with Bofur and Bifur. Bofur claimed that he didn't know how Bilbo escaped, or when he had, but now here they were. Looking for the slippery little minx and praying that he hadn't done something to hurt himself yet. So when Fili came running up to him a few hours later, telling him that Kili had managed to find the house Bilbo was hiding in, Thorin was overjoyed. But oh, the scolding he was going to give Bilbo. Honestly, the Hobbit was acting like a petulant child!

When Thorin and Fili arrived at the house where Kili was standing in the doorway, they were met by a stone faced Man who was denying them entry into his home. But beyond him, Thorin could see Bilbo. Sleeping peacefully on a couch and being apparently guarded by three children. The Man, Bard, did not budge, even when threatened or bribed. Thorin honestly feared they'd have to have Legolas slip into the house at night when the family was asleep, but then Kili said something that caught the Man's attention.

"Please, Master Bard. Bilbo is in danger. We're trying to protect him." The Man's brows scrunched up and he glanced behind him at his children and his guest before stepping out of the house and closing the door behind him. Thorin had to admire the Man for his courage in the face of four Dwarves and an Elf who all wanted their Hobbit back. But not at the moment. He would admire it later, when he wasn't so pissed off with the Man.

"What do you mean...you're protecting him? The way he speaks of you I would sooner believe that the Master is half Elf." Bard scoffed.

"And what does he say?" Thorin demanded through his teeth. Bard turned his dark eyes on the Dwarf King and did not back down.

"He told me that he joined a company of Dwarves on a quest to the Iron Hills. One that on it's own was very stressful. But paired with insensitive, insulting, cold mannered Dwarves was nearly impossible to stand. He said he began using a destructive method in order to deal with it, and that when you found out, you acted terribly towards him. Treating him like an invalid and a child and a freak. Not to mention _binding his hands_. I have no need to wonder why he ran away from you." Bard snarled, and three of the five present flinched. Thorin and Dwalin made themselves remain composed, though they both wilted on the inside.

"If he did not wish to be treated as a child, he should not have hurt himself as he did." Thorin growled right back. Bard's eyes narrowed, and gears seemed to click in his mind. The bandages he'd seen on Bilbo's arms when he was taking the bindings off his hands. Why he would need bindings on his hands in the first place. So he was hurting himself, that was the destructive habit he had spoken of.

"He may have done something terrible to himself, but isn't what you are doing to him now even worse? He is terrified of you. He wants to return to a man named Beorn. And I intend to see that happen." With that, Bard turned to reenter to his home.

"Bilbo cuts himself Master Bard." Kili blurted out. That froze the Lake Man cold. "He'll keep doing it, even if he's not on the journey with us. He's become addicted to it, you can tell by how many there are, and how recent they are. He's not healthy, Master Bard, and he needs to be looked after. If you allow him to go along all by his lonesome, he could kill himself, accidentally or on purpose." Kili continued, once he had Bard's attention.

"We are trying to help him." Legolas added. "He does not see it as help, because he is desperate to keep a hold of his habit, but we do wish to help him." Bard sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He did not want to betray Bilbo, especially not when he still felt so conflicted about whether to believe the Dwarves and the Elf. But if he was really in danger...

"What do you intend to do about his problem?" Bard asked, and his voice sounded much warier than it had a moment ago.

"We intent to keep an eye on him, and help him discover some better way of coping with his stress and his destructive emotions." Legolas told him, and he sounded honest enough.

"We need to apologize to him, for how we acted before during the journey. And we want to let him know that we do care about him. We want to show him that." Fili added, Kili nodding enthusiastically. "Master Bard, we're not bad people. We just made a bad choice by ostracizing Bilbo in those first few months. But we stopped doing that, and we included him and laughed with him and enjoyed his company in more recent times. And he still hurts himself. He needs help. If you let him go by himself back to Beorn, he won't get that help. Beorn does not like what Bilbo does, but he will not make Bilbo stop."

"Please, let us just talk to him. You can tell him that we forced our way into the house, I'm sure he would believe you. But let us talk to him at the very least." Kili pleaded, and suddenly Bard was faced with two doe eyed Dwarves, a pouty lipped Elf, and two stone faced Dwarves.

"Fine." Bard sighed. "But do not be surprised when he reacts badly to your presence." The Lake Man turned and opened the door to his home, and beckoned his children out. "We're going to the market." Bard said stiffly to the three curious looks he got.

"But Bilbo needs us to-"

"No, Sigrid. I believe no harm will come upon him. Grab your coats and let's go." His kids looked reluctant, but did as he said, and followed him away from their home. Legolas stopped Bard before he could get to far.

"Thank you. For looking after him. I shudder to think of what could have happened to him on his own in the streets of Lake Town." Bard nodded and shrugged out of his hold to continue on. Legolas watched him go for a few more moments before following the four Dwarves into Bard's home. Fili closed the door when they were all inside and motioned for the three elder beings to wait by the entrance while he and Kili woke Bilbo. They all knew it would be for the best. They didn't even want to think how Bilbo would react to Thorin waking him up.

"Bilbo?" Kili whispered, putting his hand gently on the Hobbit's shoulder. Bilbo murmured in his sleep, but didn't wake. Kili gave him a small shake, and slowly Bilbo's eyes cracked open. When he realized who he was looking at, he let out a little yelp and scrambled away from the two Dwarves. When he was standing, and putting the couch between Fili and Kili and himself, he also noticed the three others near the door. But Bard and his children were absent. It gave him no peace of mind. "It's okay! Calm down!" Kili pleaded, but Bilbo only seemed to get more upset. Bilbo felt more than saw their eyes go to his hands when he held them up, trying to get them to back away. And he could almost hear the thoughts that went through their heads.

"Did you hurt yourself again?" Fili asked, his voice level and calm. Bilbo shook his head, and while he was telling the truth, he knew they didn't believe him.

"Come back to the Manor. Let us take care of you." Kili begged, but Bilbo shook his head again.

"I want to go home. With Beorn." Bilbo choked out, and everyone present felt their hearts squeeze in their chests. He sounded so miserable.

"No until you're better. You can't keep hurting yourself Bilbo, it has to stop." Fili said firmly, but still in a gentle tone. Bilbo's eyes teared up, but he kept himself from crying with a practiced efficiency. Instead he dug his nails into his palms and narrowed his eyes.

"I am an adult Hobbit! I can decide what I do with my body!" Bilbo yelled defensively, and he received five patronizing looks within seconds. And those looks seemed to be the last straw that Bilbo could take, because suddenly he was seething. "You didn't care that I was hurting! You didn't even think that what you said to me might be hurting me! You laughed at me and you called me hurtful things, all of the Company did!" Bilbo shouted, letting everything that he'd been thinking for so long come to the surface. "Even after the Misty Mountains, and Azog, I could see the way you looked at me! Like I was pathetic and a nuisance and only honor made you bring me along! Only because I signed that damned contract! And none of you apologized for treating me like that, you just assumed I would forget about it!"

"Bilbo..." Legolas sighed, and the Hobbit's fury turned to him.

"And you! I thought you were my friend! But _you_ told them about me and it was _your_ father who bound my hands like that! You treat me like a child and I hate it! I hate all of you and I want to go home!" And just as suddenly as his rage had come, it left and he just stood there, wide eyed and trembling. He buried his face in his hands and his shoulder shook with sobs that he couldn't quite repress. They all exchanged glanced, debating who should be the one to approach the Hobbit. All eyes eventually landed on Thorin, even a begrudging Legolas, and the Dwarf King took a steadying breath before he walked forward.

Thorin wrapped his arms around Bilbo, bringing the shaking Hobbit to his chest, and he cooed softly to Bilbo when he started panicking. Bilbo gave up fairly quickly and let himself be held as the final dam broke and harsh, thick tears poured out of his eyes and down his cheeks. He cried heavily and at great length, no one saying anything the entire time, until finally his sobbing died down to little sniffles. Thorin continued to hold him anyways.

"I'm so...so sorry Bilbo. Truly I am. I can never change the past, and I doubt I can ever really make up for it either. But I can decide what happens in the future. And I promise I will never let anyone hurt you like that again. Including yourself." Thorin spoke softly and gently and Bilbo let out a strangled whimper, burying his face further into Thorin's tunic. "Will you let us help you? Please?" Bilbo said nothing for a long time but after a few minutes he nodded. Thorin felt his shoulder, so tense with worry and guilt, relax and he squeezed Bilbo even closer to him, if that was even possible.

"Let's go back to the manor." Legolas proposed quietly. Bilbo's face reappeared from where it was hidden in Thorin's chest and he shook his head adamantly.

"No! The Master is such a horrid, disgusting man! I want to stay here, with Bard and Sigrid and Bain and Tilda." Bilbo look at each of them in turn, his big eyes pleading with them. Thorin sighed and nodded after a moment of consideration. Bilbo let himself relax back against Thorin's chest, pressing his ear just above Thorin's heart.

"You can stay here then. But one of us will be staying with you. Just to make sure nothing happens to you. And we're only staying for another night anyways." Thorin told him, and Bilbo nodded. "You scared me Bilbo." Thorin admitted, and Bilbo's eyebrows creased with confusion. How could he, a simple Hobbit, scare Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain? "I did not know where you were, or if you were hurt. I feared that I would never see you again." Thorin told him in explanation and Bilbo blushed before he could contain it.

"I'm sorry for scaring you." Bilbo murmured quietly. Thorin chuckled and kissed the top of Bilbo's head.

"I'm sorry for making you feel so alone. You're not alone Bilbo. We all care for you and we would all do anything to make you happy and healthy again." Thorin told him, enjoying the way his assurances helped Bilbo relax. When Bilbo was pretty much relying on Thorin to hold him up, the Dwarf King moved them to the couch and sat, bundling the Hobbit up on his lap while Dwalin escorted Fili and Kili back to the Manor.

"See you in the morning Bilbo." Kili promised as he walked out the door.

"Sleep well." Fili added. Legolas remained, and took the chair across from Bilbo and Thorin. It only took a few minutes for Bilbo to be asleep again, still curled up on Thorin's lap with his head tucked beneath the Dwarf King's bearded chin. And the silence that descended as he slept could be cut with a blade, with how tense it was. Thorin kept his face blank, except when he happened to look at Legolas. Then he glared. And the Elf had no shortage of dirty looks to send at Thorin as well.

"We should rebind his hands." Legolas said after a while of awkward silence.

"No." Thorin immediately replied, tightening his hold on Bilbo. "No more binds. No more restrictions." He added, when it looked like Legolas was going to argue. The Elf was not deterred, and started an argument anyways.

"You know it is the only foolproof way to keep him from hurting himself!" Legolas hissed, but was careful to keep his tone quiet. He didn't want to wake Bilbo, especially not when they were fighting about the Hobbit.

"It is also the best way to make him push us away. He's been through enough at our hands, and yours. He is not a prisoner, he is our burglar, a member of our company. And I will tolerate no actions taken against him, as you suggest." Thorin said quite firmly, glaring at Legolas. The Elf Prince wanted to continue arguing, but he knew all about the stubbornness of Dwarves, and especially this Dwarf.

"Even if he ever does forgive you for your conduct in the beginning of your journey, do you really think he will feel safe around you? You left bruises on his skin Oakenshield. I would not feel safe if I were him." Legolas bit out. It wasn't really relevant to the current argument, but the Elf was seething and he needed to make Oakenshield feel guilty and disgusted with himself. If he kept bringing it up, maybe it would never happen again. Though he doubted it.

"I have done much worse to him then leave bruises." Thorin breathed, pain in his eyes. Legolas quirked his head to the side, asking for an explanation. "I believe I gave him the knife that first cut his skin. I remember the night clearly. I did not want to think of it, or believe it. But I am quite sure it was that wretched knife that I so carelessly tossed at his feet. And I will never forgive myself for that. For any moment of harm I have brought upon him." Thorin sounded appropriately forlorn and guilty, but frankly that only made Legolas angrier.

"You do not deserve him. You will only continue to hurt him, I know you will. My father told me about the Gold Sickness coursing through your greedy veins. You would do anything for your precious Arkenstone and all the gold and gems in those halls. And once you succumb to your Madness, you will have no issue abusing Bilbo." Surprisingly, Thorin didn't rise to the bait this time. He only bowed his head and placed a kiss on Bilbo's head. He would not hurt Bilbo. He would do anything he could to protect Bilbo from the Bane of Durin's Line, even if it meant sending the Hobbit away once they reached the mountain. Legolas would be happy enough to take him back to Mirkwood, and possibly to Beorn's if Bilbo pleaded with him. But he would not allow himself to hurt Bilbo. Not again.

Thorin didn't answer Legolas, and while that pissed Legolas off, the Elf did not pick and pry anymore, sensing Thorin had reached his limit. Instead of acknowledging the Elf across from him, Thorin pressed his lips to Bilbo's forehead again and left them there, his eyes far away. He remembered scattered events, little moments that if he had been really paying attention at the time, would have alerted him to Bilbo's habit much sooner. The very night he gave Bilbo the knife, the Hobbit was jumpy and he kept his arm close to his body the entire night. And every night after that, when they would make camp, Bilbo would disappear into the woods and return looking a little more tired, a little more worn, and a little paler.

And when they were at Beorn's, after Bilbo had run off crying, had he cut himself then? Did Beorn see him and bandage his wounds? If Thorin had walked up to the two, would he have seen his little love's butchered arms? He felt impossible guilt. How had the journey progressed so far and left him oblivious for so long? How could he let Bilbo hurt himself without even knowing it! What kind of a Dwarf was he, that he couldn't see his One in pain?

He would change. He would do anything and everything he could to make sure Bilbo was safe and healthy. He wouldn't let anything nefarious happen to Bilbo, not by his own hand, and not by Thorin's hand either. He would protect his Hobbit, until he could no longer do so. And then he would make sure someone else was protecting Bilbo. He swore it.

OOOOO

_AN: So uh...yeah. What did you think? Let me know!_


	6. Chapter 6

_AN: Please don't kill me._

OOOOO

"Goodbye Bard. Thank you for letting us stay." Bilbo smiled as best he could at the Man who had come to the docks to see them off.

"It was a pleasure Bilbo. You'll be careful won't you?" Bard asked, and Bilbo nodded, though he couldn't really promise that. He was getting used to lying though, as sad as that was. "Maybe we'll meet again, if life is kind." Bard suggested.

"If it is kind." Bilbo agreed, and they shared a cynical grimace. "You are a great Man Bard. I know if you set your mind to something, you can do it. You would be a wonderful leader." Bilbo whispered, since the Master was only a few yards away. If the Master thought Bard had ambition at all, the Bargeman shuddered to think of what lengths the vile man would go to in order to destroy those ambitions.

"You really have faith in me Bilbo?"

"With all my heart and mind." He smiled at the Man, and this time it was genuine and warm, and it made Bard feel hopeful. Hobbits did have a magic to them, one of warmth and optimism. Bard thought that Bilbo probably had lost his magic somewhere around the time he cut his skin open. But it appeared it was coming back, or at least making a short appearance. Bilbo's smile gave him hope. And that had to be magic. "Farewell my friend." They shook hands and then Bilbo wandered over to the boat the Master had given to them. Legolas helped him climb into the boat and Bilbo took a seat between Fili and Ori as the Master finished up his already tired speech.

"May the Valar smile on your journey!" The Master finished with a flourishing bow and Thorin gratefully shoved away from the dock, sending them on their way at long last. Bilbo watched the town get smaller and smaller behind them before looking down at his feet. He couldn't really make eye contact with any of the Dwarves (or Elf) surrounding him. They all knew about him. They looked at him differently now. They whispered when they thought he couldn't hear. They didn't really know how to handle the situation, and that made it all the worse.

Bilbo would give anything to have stayed with Beorn. If he had known that this was what would happen because of his cutting, he would have begged Thranduil to put him in the dungeons when they first arrived in his palace, as long as it meant the Elvenking would never have found out. He wished for so many things, and yet here he was. Feeling awkward and uncomfortable and like he wanted to cry. Only now he didn't have an alternative to crying. All he had was the will to keep tears out of his eyes.

No one spoke as they gradually got closer and closer to Erebor. If they weren't too caught up by the fact that they were only hours away from their home, then they just didn't know what to say. Ori attempted it a few times, asking Bilbo how he was, and if he was excited. But when all he got back were noncommittal shrugs and halfhearted whispers, he gave up. But the quiet of the Company was no where near as bad as their stares.

If Bilbo didn't actually see their eyes turned at him, then he felt them. Especially Thorin. The Dwarf King was standing somewhere behind Bilbo, but the Hobbit always knew when Thorin was looking at him and when he wasn't. When finally their boat met with the shores on the other side of the Lake, Bilbo was more than happy to scramble onto solid ground and away from close quarters with the Dwarves. He found he was eager to reach the mountain as well, just so long as he could have a little privacy by going into the mountain alone.

They walked for a tediously long time, the hours stretching on as the sun beat down mercilessly. The cool late autumn breeze was the only thing keeping the company from passing out from the hot sun. When they reached the overlook they had been traveling for hours already, and there were still more to go before they reached the mountain and the secret passage, where ever that may be. And they only had half the day left until Durin's Day ended. Bilbo sighed, already exhausted, knowing that they still had so far to go and so little time to work with. A hand took hold of his shoulder, and he jumped, looking up to see Legolas beside him.

"If you need to rest-"

"I don't." Bilbo immediately replied, shrugging his hand off and hurrying to follow after the Dwarves, who were already starting to move again. Legolas sighed, watching the Hobbit walk away for a few moments before following. Bilbo would deny it, but Legolas could tell that he was still angry with him, with all of them. And though he wasn't yelling at them, his silence was worse than anything.

It was Bilbo who spotted the hidden staircase that led up the side of one of the massive Dwarven statues. It led right to a wide ledge that would fit the company, if they really squeezed. It just had to be the secret entrance. And they had found no other possibilities, so Thorin patted Bilbo on the back and started leading the Company up. Bilbo had to stop a few times as they climbed, his arms, legs, and chest aching whenever he hit them on something. So by the time he reached the ledge, with the help of Bofur and Legolas, the other Dwarves were already trying to find a way in.

Bilbo sat to the side as they tried method after method, eagerly awaiting the last ray of sun. But when the sun set, fully and completely, and no keyhole had been discovered, the Dwarves were surprisingly quick to give up. They all stood around awkwardly for a little while before Dori shepherded his brothers back towards the stairs, being followed by the Ur's and then Oin and Gloin. Dwalin led Fili and Kili away and though Balin put a hand on Thorin's shoulder, the King ignored him and continued to stare blankly at the slab of rock that was supposed to be a secret entrance.

"Come on Bilbo." Legolas tried to encourage him to go as well, but Bilbo only glared at him.

"I have done and endured so much to get here! You will not shoo me away like some child! I will not give up so easily as all of you seem to have!" He vowed, storming over to Thorin and snatching the map away from the surprised Dwarf. Legolas and Thorin exchanged glances, neither wanting to leave without Bilbo. They'd let the Hobbit have a little bit of time to admit defeat, and then they'd follow the others.

Bilbo was muttering some lines from the moon runes when they heard a strange knocking. They all three looked over to a thrush, which had made itself at home on a grey rock and was trying to crack open a nut of some kind.

"Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks..." Bilbo murmured, sounding a little awed. At that moment the moon chose to emerge from a thin blanket of clouds, a moonbeam falling right on a very particular place in the rocks. Thorin's eyes grew wide as he realized what he was seeing. "The last light of Durin's Day. It's the moon." Bilbo breathed, looking over his shoulder at the two shocked beings. Thorin stepped up next to him and held up the key, before smiling warmly down at the Hobbit.

"I thank you Master Baggins. With all my heart." He said honestly before stepping up to the revealed keyhole. The key fit like a glove fits a hand, perfectly. And with a little shove, the door opened, exposing a hallway filled with old, musty air and no light. Despite this, Thorin looked like he had just seen the sun for the first time after a lifetime of being blind. It was so heart warming to see such a look of awe and reverence on Thorin's face. Bilbo felt the warmth in his chest and he couldn't help but smile. It did not go unnoticed by Legolas, who only rolled his eyes and wandered towards the stairway to call the others back.

"Is it everything you hoped for?" Bilbo asked quietly. Thorin was running his hands lightly over the stone in the hallways, his face contorted in a look of peace and familiarity. The King looked at him, and his smile grew into something...more. Something Bilbo couldn't quite put a name on.

"Everything and more. Come." Bilbo glanced at Thorin's hand, which he had extended for Bilbo to take, and debated actually taking it. Despite the wonderful feeling he had gotten being wrapped in Thorin's arms the day previous, Bilbo still did not feel comfortable being too near the King. Thorin had said and done terrible thing. He had apologized and begged forgiveness and done things to try and make up for it. But still...some things just couldn't be forgotten. In the end, Bilbo decided to take a little leap of faith and put his hand in Thorin's. The Dwarf pulled him close, scandalously close, a part of his mind pointed out, and put Bilbo between the wall and his body, so Bilbo's chest was to the stone.

"Thorin?"

"Shh. Can't you feel it Bilbo? The heartbeat of the mountain. The warmth radiated by the stone, the emotions pulsing through the rock?" Thorin whispered, moving to the side so he too could press against the wall. He laid his cheek against the stone and closed his eyes, looking so serene for the first time Bilbo could remember. Bilbo felt a smile come unbidden to his lips again and he closed his eyes as well. He couldn't feel the things Thorin did, he was a creature of soil and grass and trees. But he knew what Thorin spoke of. And he felt Thorin's joy, even if he didn't feel the mountain.

The Dwarf King's hand slid over his own, holding it against the wall and sudden, Bilbo _could_ feel it. He didn't know if it was just Thorin's pulse he was feeling, or if somehow the Dwarf was letting him feel the mountain. But he could feel a soft throb, to the beat of his own heart, and his palm warmed delightfully. He gasped in awe and looked up to see Thorin beaming at him.

"I feel it." Bilbo breathed. Thorin felt his already elated heart expand again at those words. He felt himself leaning in towards the Hobbit. He felt himself aching for Bilbo, for his love, for his everything. He was inches away from kissing the Hobbit's soft lips when he was suddenly thrown back into reality.

"Hey!" Legolas did not sound happy. Not at all. Bilbo was pulled back, away from the Dwarf and the wall, and the Elf stood in front of him protectively. "What did you think you were doing?" He demanded of Thorin, who could only glower at Legolas.

"He was showing me the heartbeat of the mountain." Bilbo piped up from behind the Elf, sounding shy and naïve as ever. Legolas and Thorin continued glaring at each other until the other Dwarves returned to the ledge, some with tears in their eyes. Their mountain...their home...it was open again. After the initial wave of nostalgia and joy passed, the Dwarves all turned to look at Bilbo, who was standing just in the doorway, not quite in the mountain but not all the way outside either. "What?" Bilbo asked awkwardly.

"This is where you come in laddie. Where ever this tunnel leads, it could be inhabited by a live Dragon. As well, there is a jewel you must find. A big, white jewel called the Arkenstone." Balin told him, putting a hand on Bilbo's shoulder. "If you find the Arkenstone, Thorin can call on the Dwarves of the Iron Hills, of all Seven Kingdoms, to come defeat Smaug. If you find the Arkenstone, Erebor will once again belong to the house of Durin." He added, a somewhat far away look in his eyes.

"A jewel." Bilbo repeated.

"A big, white jewel." Balin agreed.

"That's...it? I imagine there are a lot of big white jewels down there!" Bilbo pointed out, feeling less confident than he had ever during the journey. And that was saying something.

"You will know it when you see it, that I promise you." Thorin murmured from further inside the tunnel. "The jewel radiates light, and if you listen, it speaks in the most beautiful hum." He explained, a somewhat absent smile on his face.

"How can a jewel speak?" Legolas sneered from where he was standing outside. The tunnel could fit him, if he bowed his lead a little, but he wasn't eager about being in there with a bunch of Dwarves. It smelled bad enough from where he was, thank you very much.

"I would not expect an Elf to know." Thorin spat back. Legolas only rolled his eyes, so Thorin returned his attention to Bilbo. The King closed the distance between the Hobbit and himself and leaned down to whisper to Bilbo, though he was sure that everyone would still hear. "You will be going down by yourself. Tell me that you will not take this opportunity to hurt yourself." He demanded and Bilbo recoiled with an angry frown.

"Thorin Oakenshield I am about to descend to my possible death for a jewel! I will only be dealing with one issue at a time, so you pick one! The Dragon or my "problem"!" Bilbo yelled, surprising them all a little bit. Thorin blinked a few times before bowing his head in what he hoped was a placating gesture.

"Apologies Master Baggins." Bilbo gave a little huff as an acknowledgment and then looked around at the others. Most of them couldn't meet his eyes, but the ones who did gave him little smiles of encouragement. Finally, with a sigh, he straightened his posture and began walking down into the tunnel. He felt their eyes follow him until he came to a turn in the tunnel and disappeared from their view.

He felt the absence of their eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. He even took a few moments to just stand there, alone with his own company, and he made himself smile slightly. He had made it to the Lonely Mountain. The Dwarves all doubted him, right from the get go, but here he was. They were wrong about him. And that made him feel something like confidence. And it also made him feel sad. Unbearably, terribly sad. They still doubted him. He was sure Nori was currently making a betting poll about whether he would come back up from the Dragon's lair. He wondered if he would too.

Shaking his head and using the small amount of confidence he had recently acquired, he steeled his resolve and continued on. It took longer than he thought it would to reach the end of the long tunnel. And he was greeted by a faint golden light and a nice warmth, which was a big contrast to the cold winter air that had followed him down the tunnel. And also there were the _mountains_ and _valleys_ of gold that stretched as far as he could see! That was pretty notable.

He thought when the Dwarves talked about the treasury, saying it was grander than all of Mirkwood and wider than the Shire's produce market, that they had been exaggerating. But...this was taking a step beyond extensive and going straight to ridiculous. The Dwarves of Erebor had this much gold and they really expected to _not_ be set upon by a gold hoarding Dragon? Eru, there could be four or five Dragons in the treasury, hiding under all that gold, and Bilbo wouldn't be able to tell. As it was, he couldn't even see the one he absolutely for sure knew was there. Smaug must be sleeping, or out hunting, because he was absent from Bilbo's view. And that gave him no peace of mind.

Bilbo experimented, making small noises to see if that would wake the Dragon. When they failed to rustle even a single coin, he knocked on the wall. It was much louder than he thought it would be and he scurried back into the tunnel as his knock carried through the vast room. But still no Dragon appeared. That gave him a little more courage and he crept out into the room. The coins crunched under his feet, and he walked slowly to avoid making unnecessary noise.

After a few minutes of careful walking, he got another boost of confidence and decided to actually start looking for the Arkenstone. Which he knew would be no easy task. This place was huge and he was tasked with finding one large white gem amidst this madness? Why not simply ask him to kill Smaug while he was at it. Or convince Thranduil to dance with a Dwarf. It might actually be an easier task at this point. But, with a sigh, he resigned himself to looking through the landscape before him, beginning to sift through gold and jewels.

He was making slow progress, though he supposed any kind of progress was better than none at all. He wasn't even over the first golden mountain when he stumbled upon something that was definitely not the Arkenstone, but caught his eye anyways. With slightly shaking hands Bilbo reached down and curled his fingers around the hilt of a small golden dagger. There were diamonds encrusted on the hilt and delicate embossing on the blade, and it looked more like a show piece than a weapon. But it still had a sharp edge. Plenty sharp, he found out, when he ran his thumb over it and the metal dug into his skin like that first knife had, the first night he had ever cut himself.

Bilbo's breath caught in his throat and he couldn't stop looking at the golden edge buried into his thumb and the slow trickle of blood that left a crimson trail down the blade. His blood began following the curves and designs that were etched into the gold, highlighting the truly fine craft of the Dwarves. And he wished, more than anything, to use the blade further.

Unfortunately, he knew that Thorin would be looking for wounds on him when he returned to the ledge. After the Dwarf King asked about the Arkenstone, he would undoubtedly ask if Bilbo had hurt himself. And then, since he wouldn't trust Bilbo's word on the matter, he would check. If Bilbo used this dagger, like he so wanted to, he would only end up in trouble. With all of the Dwarves, and with Legolas. He decided that instead of using the dagger, he would hide it and use it some other time, when the company wasn't so paranoid about the whole situation. After all, they would soon have bigger things to worry about than Bilbo Baggins.

Bilbo looked around quickly for somewhere to hide his new weapon, his eyes quickly finding a little crack in one of the giant pillars in the room. Scurrying over, he forced the ornate knife into the crack, and then he piled treasure up until it covered the dazzling thing. He looked around, just to make absolutely sure that no one had seen him, the Dragon included, and he returned to searching for the Arkenstone.

After a few hours of searching, during which he had to fight to keep himself awake, since it was boring work, he gave up. He couldn't even begin to think how long this would take, trying to find the King's Jewel. And he was exhausted from all the walking and not sleeping and he just wanted a break. So he grabbed a cup and turned back to the tunnel, deciding that he would just come back tomorrow and look some more. Thorin had to understand that he wasn't going to magically find the Arkenstone after only one day. The treasury was just too big to think of, and it was bound to take a long time to find one needle in the biggest haystack Bilbo had ever seen.

When he returned to the ledge, everyone looked up at him at the same time. And they all breathed a little sigh of relief. That made Bilbo feel a little warm inside, though it quickly vanished when Thorin's eyes went to the gold cup in his hands and he frowned. Maybe he wouldn't be so okay with Bilbo taking more than a few hours to find the gem.

"The Arkenstone?" Thorin asked gruffly.

"I didn't find it. But I still have much to look through, and the Dragon is still asleep. I'll go back down tomorrow, after I have slept a little." Bilbo told him, handing the cup to Fili and Kili, who were practically salivating over it. Thorin frowned but grunted in acceptance. Bilbo stood there awkwardly for another moment, waiting for the other inevitable question, but it didn't come. So instead he turned towards his pack and rolled out his bedroll.

It was...strange. On one hand, Bilbo was glad Thorin wasn't bugging him about the subject, or bringing it up in front of everybody like he had earlier. On the other...was Thorin really more worried about the Arkenstone than Bilbo's health? And most importantly, did this mean Bilbo could use the dagger without Thorin finding out? If so, then all he had to worry about was Legolas, who was currently looking at him carefully.

With a sigh, Bilbo turned onto his side and put his back to the company (who were rejoicing over the small amount of treasure they now had), Thorin (who was looking off into the tunnel longingly), and Legolas (who's eyes he could still feel on his back). But despite the noise of the Dwarves and the discomfort of Legolas watching him, Bilbo still fell asleep quickly. Not that he was complaining. It felt good to sleep, and even better, to sleep without dreams. Most of the time they were nightmares, anyway.

OOOOO

The mountain was shaking. Violently. And Bilbo was being picked up and tossed over a shoulder, and though he didn't see who it was who was holding him, he could see what they were running from. So that was what Smaug looked like. For some reason, Bilbo imagined something...fatter. But no less deadly, considering they were running for their lives into the mountain. Just in time too, as Dwalin slammed the secret door shut about one second before the fire hit it.

A deep, soul clenching silence followed after the door shutting, only being interrupted by the sound of an angry Dragon outside. And the sound of claws raking down stone to try and get to them. In the complete darkness of the tunnel, Bilbo couldn't tell if everyone had made it inside. But he didn't want to speak and break the terrified tension. He couldn't even move to get off of his savior's shoulder. All he could do was clutch at whichever Dwarf's tunic it was, balling the fabric up in his clenched hands.

It seemed like hours before Smaug gave up and all fell silent outside. And even after the Dragon was gone, no one moved and no one could speak. Until Bilbo realized how much it hurt having a shoulder digging into his stomach and he tried to shift to take the pressure off. Whoever had him seemed to realize the Bilbo wanted down and carefully put the Hobbit on his feet.

"Are you alright?" Thorin whispered and a hand came up to rest on his cheek. Bilbo wondered how Thorin could see him in the all consuming darkness, but he supposed it was just a Dwarf thing. To test that, he nodded, and Thorin grunted in acknowledgment. "Is everyone here?" Thorin called out louder, though Bilbo noticed that he left his hand on his cheek. The Dwarves started calling out their names, as though they were taking roll, until all twelve of them were accounted for.

"Legolas?" Bilbo asked, when he didn't hear the Elf's name.

"I'm here Bilbo." Legolas assured him from somewhere to his left. Thorin pulled Bilbo into a short hug before releasing him and walking away, or at least his footsteps suggested he was walking away.

"Someone get a small fire started for light. Did any of the packs make it inside?" Thorin asked.

"I grabbed Kili's and mine." Fili told him. Six of the others, and Legolas, had managed to grab supplies before dashing into the tunnel, though they had lost six packs. Bilbo backed up until he found a wall and stayed there, hoping to remain out of everybody's way as they busied about taking inventory and making the fire. After a few minutes, Gloin got a spark from his tinderbox and the fire caught, filling the small tunnel with light. Bilbo looked around, checking to make sure everyone was indeed there, before relaxing further against the wall.

"Anyone injured?" Oin asked the company at large, scrutinizing everyone equally, because Dwarves were notorious for denying injury. When his eyes landed on Bilbo, the Hobbit felt half of the company's eyes as well. And it was like they all realized no one had asked about him hurting himself after coming up from the treasury the night before. A flush covered his cheeks and a frown pulled down the corners of his lips.

"I'm fine." He snapped at Oin, at all of them really, and he stormed over to a corner where he sat with a huff and pulled his knees up to his chest. The company tentatively returned to what they were doing, but Legolas came over and sat next to him. He didn't say anything, for which Bilbo was grateful, but his very presence felt like an accusation.

"They think he woke up because of the cup." Legolas told him after a long while. Bilbo glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes and sighed.

"So it's my fault." He muttered.

"I didn't say that." Legolas said, maybe a little indignantly. "Thorin will still want you to go back down into the treasury. Once he thinks Smaug is asleep again. If you don't want to go-"

"I'll go." Bilbo shrugged. Legolas nodded softly, clearly not happy with the situation.

"I...I don't want you to get hurt. It's dangerous to go down there Bilbo, especially now that the Dragon is awake." Legolas whispered, putting a hand on Bilbo's knee. The Hobbit stared at it for a long moment before shrugging again.

"This whole quest has been dangerous. And I've always known there was a Dragon at the end of it. I can take care of myself." The look Legolas gave him after his last statement made Bilbo want to smack the Elven Prince. It was patronizing and judging and disbelieving and everything Bilbo hated in a look. Bilbo jerked his knee away from Legolas' touch, angry with the Elf for looking at him like that. But rather than get up and walk away, he turned his attention to watching the Dwarves and fervently ignored Legolas when he tried to start up a different conversation.

He continued ignoring not only Legolas, but all of them, for hours. Dinner was made quite some time later, and Ori shyly brought him a bowl of the thin soup. Bilbo knew that, based off the silence of the mountain, he'd probably be sent down again once dinner was done. And he was not looking forward to it. Smaug was clever, as much as he hated to admit it, and he would probably be awake, waiting for whoever took his cup to come back. Bilbo wondered if he took the cup back, if Smaug would be pacified for now. After all, he still had much of the treasury to look through and he couldn't do that with a live, awake Dragon breathing fire down his neck. Literally.

When Thorin stood and made his way over to where Bilbo still sat, the Hobbit knew what he was going to say. So he beat Thorin to it.

"Can I take the cup back, when I go down to the treasury again? I think it might appease Smaug." Bilbo told him calmly. Thorin's eyes narrowed and he seemed to have a small mental war with himself before nodding stiffly.

"I believe the beast will be back asleep by now. They are lethargic creatures after all." Thorin didn't want to outright say, 'Go back to the treasury now' but Bilbo could read between the lines. He took one more bite of his half finished dinner, which was cold by now, and stood. Thorin grabbed the cup from where it was sitting by the fire and gave it to Bilbo solemnly. He didn't like giving treasure to the Dragon, but if Bilbo could appease Smaug and then continue searching for the Arkenstone, then soon all the treasure would belong to the Dwarves again.

"Be careful Bilbo." Kili said softly from where he was sitting. Bilbo tried to smile at him, but he was so unaccustomed to smiling. Thorin gave him one more glance and then nodded towards the tunnel. Bilbo glanced around and began his second decent, once again feeling their gazed follow him until a certain point. But this time, his anxiety over going into the treasury with an awake Dragon drowned out his relief.

Bilbo had this mental imagine in his head. It included a Dragon, waiting patiently at the end of the tunnel, with a blazing belly just waiting to roast him alive. But that wasn't what he found when he stuck his head out into the treasury again. All was silent and still, and the only difference between this visit and the last was that Smaug was no longer buried under gold. He was stretched out on top of his chosen mountain, the picture of content, eyes closed and perfectly at ease. And Bilbo couldn't honestly tell if he was awake or not. Instead of spending too much time wondering, Bilbo crept down the stairs and placed the cup down as quietly as he could. He was sure that if Smaug could tell when one single piece of his treasure was removed, that he would also be able to tell when it was brought back.

Bilbo was about to turn and hide out just inside the tunnel for a little while when the pillar caught his eyes. It wasn't too far. If Smaug was truly asleep, and really wouldn't he have already come after Bilbo if he was awake, then he probably wouldn't hear Bilbo walk to the pillar. But did he really want to chance it? It was true, none of the Dwarves had asked him about hurting himself upon his return. But what if they did this time? Or what if Smaug woke up? Most importantly, could he really resist the siren song of the blade for any longer?

As it turned out, no he couldn't. Because there he was, creeping across the gold to the pillar, constantly checking to make sure Smaug was still asleep. When at last he reached the pillar, he tried to be as quiet as possible to move the small bit of treasure hiding his dagger. And then it was in his hands again. He slid the blade out of it's holster and looked at the way his blood had dried black in the engravings. It was...beautiful. Not that he ever would have thought so before. Back when he was innocent and ignorant of the world. Before he met the Dwarves or ever saw an Elf or ran from a pack of wargs. So much had passed and oh, how it had changed him.

Bilbo glanced over his shoulder, and decided that Smaug was not going to be waking. And he didn't exactly want to cut in the tunnel where any of the company might chance upon him. He silently walked to the other side of the pillar, where Smaug wouldn't be able to see him and the Dwarves wouldn't be able to catch sight of him from the tunnel. He slid down the pillar and into a ball, keeping his body small and compact, except for his arms which stretched out in front of him.

Bilbo looked from one to the other before deciding he would start with his legs. He uncurled from his ball and pulled his trousers down to his knees before unsheathing the dagger again. After taking a deep breath, Bilbo lowered the edge of his blade to his skin, a little hiss escaping his lips as the cold metal made contact. And then the knife was in his skin, and his blood was free and he felt all the anger, all the hurt and the sorrow, leave him in waves. A sigh escaped his lips as a shudder wracked his frame. It had been far too long, and he had much he wanted to forget using this blade and his blood.

He lost count of how many new cut he made on his legs, simply dragging the dagger over his skin, wallowing in the bliss that followed, and then making a new cut when the bliss faded. All too soon, he turned his attention to his other leg. And then he found himself staring at his legs in confusion. Blood covered most of his skin, and was coming dangerously close to soaking into his trousers. Bilbo kicked them off and looked around for something to staunch the flow of blood. His eyes fell on something silk and blue and he pulled it free from where it was under a bit of coins. It turned out to be a banner of Durin, but the only thing that mattered at the moment was that it stopped his blood from leaking all over his clothes. After wrapping the banner around his legs, Bilbo rolled up his sleeves and went to work there.

There was so much he wanted to forget. So many regrets he wished he never had to have. So many people he wished he didn't hate, but he couldn't quite help it. There was so much boiling in his blood and Bilbo just wanted it out! He wanted his blood out of his veins, and he wanted the emotion tearing him apart to go away! He didn't realize he was crying until a drop of salt water fell onto his arm, stinging a sluggishly bleeding cut. He hissed and then sniffled, trying to figure out why he was crying. He wasn't supposed to cry, the cutting was supposed to make that stop. Blood _or_ tears! Not both! But here he was, crying.

He attacked his arm with a new savagery after that. Anything to make the tears stop. Anything to make everything stop, the thoughts and the emotions and the tears and everything! He just wanted it to _STOP_!

The dagger slipped from his palm, and only then did he realize he was absolutely covered in blood. All over his hands and arms and legs and it was too much. How had he...how could he let himself get so carried away? He had always told himself that he wouldn't. That he would know when to stop, and he would not be a danger to himself. Even as he thought that, he felt his body shaking, screaming out silently that it was in too much pain and there was not enough blood in his veins. His head hurt, everything hurt, and he was scared. He was...so scared.

He had to get to the company. They would know what to do. Surely he couldn't be dying! It was a lot of blood, but not that much! Oin would bandage him and Thorin would yell at him, but he would be alive. Bilbo could hardly tell if his limbs were actually moving, and his vision was tunneling a little. But suddenly he was standing and his trousers were on and he was stumbling a little. Towards...the tunnel...wasn't he? He didn't quite remember which way it was. Nothing looked very familiar. Maybe if he walked around the pillar? Didn't he do that before? Was the tunnel on the other side of the pillar?

Something that sounded like water rippled in the back of his mind. It was so nice that there was water in the mountain. He'd have to take a bath there, once Oin had bandaged him. And the sound of falling water was so soothing. It chimed and tinkled like one of those little wind chimes his neighbors in the Shire had. He wanted one of those. He'd get on. If he ever got home again.

Behind the swaying Hobbit, Smaug sat perched on his haunches just watching the little thing that was stumbling around his treasury. It looked...drunk. Perhaps that was why it was stupid enough to be in his treasury. But Smaug suspected it wasn't alcohol that was inebriating this creature, but a mixture of endorphins and blood loss. The Dragon looked around, his sharp eyes catching sight of both the cup the thief had taken the night before, as well as a pile of gold positively drenched in blood, as well as a crimson dagger. Interesting. Why would this little thief hurt himself? His curiosity was piqued and he found he didn't want to kill his intruder. At least not until he had his questions answered.

"You do realize, of course, how incredibly stupid you are, little thief." Smaug purred. The creature froze, standing stock still, panic flooding his hazy brain and sharpening his dulling senses. Blood loss be damned, the little thing knew exactly how much danger he was now in, and he was much more alert as he turned to gape at the Dragon behind him. And then he was running, as if he had been shot off like a catapult. Smaug chuckled to himself and watched the creature take refuge behind a pillar. Panic, he understood, did not provide people with rational thinking. Hiding was probably the only thing this little male thought he could do at the moment. Though it was hardly hiding if Smaug knew exactly where he was.

"I-I didn't come to s-steal from you. I b-brought your cup b-back." The creature called out from behind the pillar, and Smaug sent another uninterested gaze at the cup. What interest could he have in a single little cup when he had something much more intriguing hiding only a few hundred feet away. Smaug decided to humor the thing though.

"Indeed you did. And do you think your life will be spared for it?" Smaug asked, starting to approach his "visitor".

"W-Well I just thought, since I b-brought it back, that I d-didn't _really_ steal it. I was j-just showing it to some people." Bilbo stuttered from where he was "hiding". He knew Smaug knew where he was, and that he would probably be dead soon. Incineration indeed. At least he wouldn't bleed to death. He couldn't decide which he feared more. He tried hard to focus on the situation at hand, and while his mind had sharpened a little in his terror, it was still fuzzy around the edges. And his headache was throbbing rather agonizingly. Not to mention his whole body, which was continuously shaking with the effort to stay on his feet.

"You still took what was not yours, little thief. I do not take kindly to such larceny." Smaug rumbled, and Bilbo felt a jolt run through him at how much closer Smaug sounded.

"I apologize p-profusely, oh Smaug the unaccessible wealthy. I do not know what c-came over me. I only came here to gaze upon your magnificence. I thought that surely the stories of old could not be true." Bilbo hoped to all of the Valar that Smaug would be vain enough to accept such flattery.

"And now?" Smaug asked, sounding a little indignant.

"Truly, the songs and tales fall utterly short of your enormity, oh Smaug the stupendous. I have never seen the like of such awe inspiring beauty and power and-"

"Yes, yes. But do tell me, if you are only here to gaze upon me, why you smell so heavily of blood." Bilbo's heart jumped to his throat. He was hardly surprised that Smaug smelled the blood, there was so much of it. But why would the Dragon inquire about it?

"W-What?" Bilbo squeaked out.

"Do not get me wrong little thief, you smell delicious. A beautiful blend of blood and fear and sorrow. Anger as well, though not as much. Mostly blood. Are you injured little thief?" Bilbo shuddered and pressed himself back harder against the pillar. His knees felt rather like jam and he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to stand. Especially when Smaug sounded so very close to him.

"Why would I tell you if I were?" Bilbo asked, managing to sound braver than he felt. Smaug chuckled, and it felt like a small earthquake to Bilbo, who's head felt worse by the second.

"Why would you not? I am rather enjoying our conversation. I've decided that maybe I'll keep you as a pet so you can amuse me. I am sure you have quite a few stories to tell. Starting with your blood, and why there is so little of it in your veins." As if in reminder, Bilbo felt his body tremble again. He felt weak and too light, like he might float away at any moment. His head felt as though it might burst into spontaneous flame at any moment. Not that Smaug's voluminous voice was helping at all.

"I would rather you not." Bilbo spat out, putting a hand to his head. His blood was still wet on his fingers, and it left prints on Bilbo's forehead. Not that he realized it. He was struggling to even stay conscious, and aware. A little blood was hardly one of his priorities at the moment.

"I am not sure I am offering you a choice." Smaug's clatter stopped and Bilbo felt his heart skip a beat. He looked up slowly, wide blue eyes meeting with devastatingly large golden eyes. Smaug grinned, showcasing every one of his sharp teeth. "Found you little thief." Bilbo could barely comprehend the hand coming towards him. But even though he knew he should run, should get back to the Dwarves, he couldn't make his body move. He fell to his knees, and the only thing keeping him from falling flat on his face was the claw that wrapped around him. Instead of panic, Bilbo felt the most blissful numb come over him. And then he was gone, pulled down into unconsciousness.

OOOOO


	7. Chapter 7

AN: And now we return to angst and crippling emotional turmoil. Enjoy the program. :)

OOOOO

Bilbo felt warm. Uncomfortably warm. As if he was buried under layers of furs, or sleeping right next to the fire. He squirmed and moaned and tried to get away from whatever was overheating his body, but he fell still when his mind pointed out one important fact. He was not in camp with the Dwarves and Legolas. He had gone into the mountain. He couldn't remember anything beyond crouching behind that pillar with his new knife, and starting to cut. His memory faded off right around the time he grabbed the banner to wrap up his legs. He assumed, from the thumping headache, that he had pushed himself too far once again. He also assumed that when he woke further, he'd remember more.

But there was something incredibly wrong with all of this. He was in a Dragon's lair, feeling uncomfortably and disgustingly hot. And there was something that felt like a branding iron sliding over the skin of his arm, leaving a terrible stinging in its wake. It felt like fire itself was licking his flesh. He writhed and panicked and tried to pull his arm away from whatever was causing such terrible pain to him. Something clamped down harshly over his wrist and shoulder, keeping him quite still and scaring the living out of him.

With all the strength he possessed, which was hardly substantial at the moment, Bilbo willed his eyes open. At first he didn't understand what he was looking at. There was a mane of black hair and a long, pure white back hunched over him. Whatever face was under the hair was currently hidden, but Bilbo could put the pieces together. Whatever...whoever...this thing was, it was licking him! Licking his cuts and leaving the most agonizing pain behind.

"S-Stop p-please-" Bilbo couldn't make his voice sound commanding, he could hardly use it at all, but it did the trick. Suddenly the thing sat up, revealing to Bilbo that it was straddling the Hobbit's hips, and revealed its face. Or rather, his face. Like his back, this man's face was as pale as the moon and it provided a perfect contrast to his burning golden eyes. He had impossibly sharp cheek bones and full red lips. Incredibly red lips, coated with blood that also dripped down his chin.

"Awake again, are you?" The man asked, and his voice was impossibly deep and it resonated like thunder in Bilbo's chest.

"A-Again?"

"Oh you've slipped in and out of consciousness a few times. You're much more lucid now though." Suddenly Bilbo remembered why his voice sounded so familiar. It really hadn't changed much from Smaug's Dragon form to this...Man form. Smaug sensed Bilbo's fear becoming heightened, and he surmised that he had figured it out. "Yes little thief, I am the Dragon you so fear."

"H-How are you-"

"A Dragon possesses many forms of magic. Taking a different form is fairly easy, in comparison to some of the other things I must do on occasion." Smaug shrugged. "Now hold still, I'm almost done." With that, Smaug hunched back over Bilbo's body and started licking at his arm again. A hiss of pain escaped Bilbo's mouth and he jerked uselessly, trying to get away from Smaug.

"P-Please stop it h-hurts!" Bilbo whined desperately.

"It's supposed to hurt little thief." Smaug chuckled to himself and returned to his task, completely ignoring the little pleas that streamed from Bilbo. When he had finished, he sat back again and looked Bilbo over with a little nod. Bilbo looked down at himself too, mainly at his still stinging arm. He was shocked to find that all the cuts he had made before passing out were gone, sealed up and scarred over. His other arm was healed as well, and it felt impossibly heavy but did not sting as much as the most recently healed arm.

"How..."

"It is as I've said little thief, a Dragon possesses many strange forms of magic. My venom heals wounds quite effectively. Oh you have blood on your forehead." Without so much as a warning, Smaug took Bilbo's face between his hands and places his lips on the Hobbit's forehead, sucking the blood that was there off his skin. Bilbo gasped and tried to pull away, but he was rather useless at the moment. He was in pain and he felt heavy and still so _tired_. When Smaug finished with the blood on Bilbo's forehead, he sat back once more and smiled wolfishly. "Now then, any more injuries I should know about? I assume there are more, because I still smell blood. There was so much of it, but I've cleaned it off your arms and face. Perhaps your legs..."

"No! Please don't, I am fine!" Bilbo said frantically, but naturally that only increased Smaug's determination. The Dragon smirked at his little captive and scooted down a bit so he could yank Bilbo's trousers off his hips and down to his knees. Bilbo yelped and tried to turn or do something to cover himself. Smaug only pressed down on his hips to stop his moving and lowered his mouth and burning tongue to the open cuts he had revealed. Bilbo couldn't even make himself protest this time, though it hurt just as much. He was captivated, and horrified, watching Smaug slide his tongue over each individual cut, his venom sealing them almost immediately.

When finally he was done, Smaug sat up, but did not release Bilbo's hips. And he did not pull Bilbo's trousers back up either.

"Now then. What are you?" Smaug asked, all traces of playfulness suddenly abandoning his features. Bilbo swallowed dryly and tried to look away from the piercing golden eyes. Smaug snuck his finger beneath Bilbo's chin and raised the scared boy's face back up towards his, making sure Bilbo looked at him. "I think you should keep in mind the fact that you are in my home, alone, and I can hurt you more than you can imagine. Now, what are you?" Smaug hissed, and Bilbo felt a shudder go through his body.

"I-I'm a H-Hobbit." Bilbo squeaked, and Smaug purred happily.

"That's better. And what, prey tell, is a Hobbit?" Smaug demanded, though he no longer held Bilbo's terrified gaze. His golden eyes were sweeping over the little thing beneath him, analyzing Bilbo and cataloging his findings. Before Bilbo could even think up some way to answer him, Smaug started speaking again. "You are small, both height wise and width wise, though from the cut of your clothes, you were not always so slight. Mostly likely, you have recently lost a lot of weight. Is it typical for your kind to have small statures and large bellies?" Smaug's eyes flicked up to Bilbo's again, daring him not to answer.

"Y-Yes, we are all short and fat." Bilbo choked out. Smaug smirked and then tsked.

"Such harsh terms. Surely you have a more flattering outlook on yourself than 'short and fat'."

"In the Shire, being short and fat is a compliment. I am most un-respectable in my size at the moment." Bilbo told him indignantly. Smaug chuckled, enjoying it when the little thing got worked up. So much better than blind panic or fear.

"I see. And your feet, are they also a regular trait of your people?" The Dragon inquired, trailing a finger up the underside of Bilbo's foot. The Hobbit couldn't help but jump and squeal and try to pull his foot away. "They are very sensitive." Smaug stated with a wolfish grin. "I have never met, nor smelled, your kind before. You say you live in the Shire?" Bilbo nodded. "That's in the West, is it not." Another nod. "I have not been very far West. Not for a very long time." For a moment, Smaug sounded rather...sentimental. But then he shook his head and his eyes hardened. "And what are you doing so far from home, with a company of disgusting smelling Dwarves?"

"D-Dwarves?" Bilbo gasped, trying to feign innocence.

"Oh don't be dull, I can smell them on you. I know the taste and smell of Dwarves, no one better. You reek of them. And...oh yes, an Elf as well." Smaug stooped and buried his nose in Bilbo's neck, taking a long sniff before chuckling. "I smell thirteen different Dwarf scents, and one Elf. And you were recently near men. Most likely of Lake Town, am I correct?" Bilbo couldn't find his voice, especially with Smaug still nestled in his neck. "I find it hard to believe you came to my mountain, with such a company, for the sole purpose of gazing upon me in wonder." Smaug drawled with a raised brow.

"I-I-" What could Bilbo really say? He wasn't going to admit to being there as a thief, but he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"There is only one reason you are still alive. Because you intrigue me. If you hope to live, you will continue to do so. Now then, can you move yet?" Smaug asked, his voice switching so effortlessly between lethal and jovial. Bilbo shook his head, his arms and legs still feeling impossibly heavy and buzzing with venom. Smaug only shrugged and scooped his arms under Bilbo, picking him up and holding him close as he stood.

"W-What are you g-going to do with me?" Bilbo asked, his voice cracking with fear and nerves. Smaug chuckled and shrugged, jostling Bilbo a little and making him flinch.

"I'm sure I remember a little gilded cage somewhere around here. Should be just your size." Smaug remarked, his liquid gold eyes gliding over the endless hills of treasure. But Bilbo's heart sunk clear to his toes. A cage? Smaug was going to put him in a cage? He shuddered, and he knew that Smaug felt it.

"M-My friends will come looking for me." He told the Dragon, who smirked and chuckled again.

"I assume they will." He remarked with more sass than Bilbo would have thought possible for a Dragon. "I also assume they'll taste delicious as I eat them." He leered down at Bilbo, who tried to shrink away from the Dragon. It was really a futile attempt.

"A-Are you going to eat me too?"

"Not yet." Smaug shrugged. "I have questions, and I've been alone for quite some time. I think I will appreciate your company. For a time, at least." Smaug remarked, suddenly dropping him. Bilbo hissed as something with a corner dug into his back. He managed to squirm off of whatever was trying to impale him, and wrinkled his brow at the sight of a large book, bound with a golden cover. And something else, half hidden by the large tome. It was...breathtaking. It shined and glimmered and sparkled all at once. It looked...warm...and alluring. And Bilbo just knew...the Arkenstone. Smaug was turned away from him, digging in a pile of gold a few feet away, so Bilbo reached out for the gem.

It was alarmingly hard to make his arm move, but sluggishly he managed to wrap his fingers around the gorgeous jewel and put it in his deepest pocket. He could only pray that Smaug wouldn't notice. He just barely got his hand back out of his pocket when Smaug turned back to him with something silver in his hands. It took Bilbo a few moments to realize it was a collar, on a chain. Panic lit like a fire in his stomach and he dredged up all the strength he could manage in order to crawl away from the Dragon.

"Tsk...I thought you were going to be a good little Hobbit. Maybe I should look for that cage after all." Smaug rumbled, simply watching Bilbo's little attempt to get away. Bilbo quickly shook his head, though he didn't know why he detested the idea of a cage more than that of a collar. Though, if Smaug did find the cage, there was no guarantee he would forfeit the collar. Smaug grinned and closed the distance between them, crouching over Bilbo again. He secured the heavy silver collar around Bilbo's neck, his hands lingering to play with the ends of his hair for a few moments. And then he gripped the chain tight in his hands and yanked. Bilbo yelped and scrambled to get to his knees, to take the pressure off his throat.

"Please stop!" Bilbo gasped, gripping the chain as well and trying to pull it out of Smaug's hands. He was exhausted and weak and he couldn't fight the Dragon, but he also couldn't get to his feet like Smaug obviously wanted. The Dragon only frowned and pulled harder. Bilbo choked and forced his feet beneath him, reaching out for something to help him stand. Smaug took his arm and helped him get stable before smiling.

"There now, that wasn't so hard. You do learn fast little one." Smaug remarked, giving Bilbo some slack on the chain. Bilbo nearly fell back to the ground, but for the strong grip Smaug kept on his arm. He took large, gasping breathes, hearing his heartbeat in his ears. The little struggle had made his heart kick up its pace, forcing the meager amount of blood still in his veins to race. He felt the lack of blood quite clearly and he was dizzy. The increased pumping of his heart was also pushing Smaug's venom through his body like a wildfire, and it was all too much. Not enough blood and too much venom, and he felt himself falling. He wasn't even sure if he hit the ground or not, because he was unconscious before he could tell the difference.

OOOOO

"Bilbo?" His eyelids felt heavy. Everything felt heavy, but for some reason he was upset about his eyelids feeling heavy. It was such a small, insignificant thing, to blink ones eyes. And he couldn't do it! Instead, he relied on what he could feel. He was uncomfortable, sitting on something lumpy and hard, but he was warm. And he felt dizzy and his head hurt! Someone's hand pressed to his forehead and it felt so warm. He wanted to press closer to that warmth, but he was so disoriented and he didn't even know who it was who was touching him. "He's ice cold." The voice above him murmured. It sounded... familiar. If he could just open his eyes...

"We don't have time for this, just grab him and let's go." A different, deeper voice, commanded. The first, lighter voice, muttered something in a language Bilbo didn't fully understand, though a few words stuck out. They weren't very flattering. Warm fingers prodded gently around his throat and alerted to the fact that there was something heavy surrounding his neck. Then the fingers were gone and there was a curse.

"The collar won't open, and the chain is locked around the pillar." The first voice hissed, and the darker voice muttered something. Bilbo could only assume it was a curse as well, just in a language he didn't understand. "You're a Dwarf, _you_ do something!"

"What is that supposed to mean?" The darker voice demanded.

"I mean that your kind made this chain! Can't you break it?" The lighter one asked with irritation. Bilbo finally managed to force his eyes open and he took in the sight of the two beings standing over him. One was tall with blond hair and ice blue eyes, and his mind vaguely called up a name that seemed to fit. Legolas. And the other was shorter than Legolas, with black hair and sapphire eyes. Thorin, his mind told him. They didn't notice his eyes opening, they were too busy glaring at each other.

"Unless you have bolt cutters, a small forge, or a skeleton key hidden in the frilly folds of your ass-"

"We can't just leave him!" There was a third person now, one with a hat and brown hair and brown eyes...Bofur. Bofur looked down at him, and finally seemed to notice that he was awake. He pushed through Thorin and Legolas and knelt by him, stroking his cheek tenderly. "Hey little one. We're here. We're gonna help yeh." He promised with a warm smile. Help him? Why couldn't he remember why they were helping him? Why was his mind failing him so badly, and why did he hurt so much, all over? "Did Smaug hurt yeh? Yer clothes are all bloody." Bofur asked, as gently as he could.

Smaug. That rang a bell in Bilbo's weak mind. A Dragon, a great Dragon. And also a Man. An ethereal, dangerous Man. With a burning tongue and searing golden eyes. Bilbo had to tell the Dwarves that Smaug could take Man form! He had to tell them about the Dragon's abilities! But his tongue felt swollen in his mouth and his throat felt too dry, like it would crack right in half if Bilbo even tired to speak.

"Bilbo?" Legolas looked so concerned as he knelt by Bilbo's other side. He carded his fingers through the Hobbit's curls and his eyes begged for Bilbo to answer, but try as he might, the only think Bilbo could do was choke on a moan of agony. "Bilbo, I know it's hard, but we don't have a lot of time. The Dragon will be back soon, and we will have to leave. Anything you can tell us could be of use to get you out of here sooner." Legolas sounded sympathetic enough, but didn't he understand? Bilbo could not speak! He could hardly breath, now that he thought about it.

"Why didn't we think ta bring water?" Bofur asked, followed by a curse. "Poor lad's probably dyin of thirst." He lamented.

"We should check him for injuries. Make use of the short time we have." Legolas recommended. Thorin nodded stiffly, though Legolas wasn't really asking for permission, and the Elf began to roll Bilbo's sleeves up. When he was met with pristine white skin, only marred by an abundance of scars, he gasped in shock. There was no way...three days ago, Bilbo's skin was still split from his self injury in Mirkwood. Now it was completely healed. Thorin and Bofur also looked shocked, though they composed themselves quickly.

"How could he be healed? So quickly?" Bofur asked the question they all wanted to know. Bilbo tried again to form a word, but it was really pathetic.

"'Maug." He gasped out, and it drew their attention effectively enough. Bilbo swallowed a few times, forcing the meager amount of saliva he was making to somewhat wet his throat. "Sm-aug." He choked out before coughing weakly.

"Smaug healed you?" Legolas question, and Bilbo managed to nod his head once.

"How?" "Why?" Thorin and Legolas asked at the same time before glaring at each other.

"How did he heal you Bilbo?" Legolas asked before Thorin could pester him about 'why'. Bilbo didn't think he could talk, but he made his arm lift and let gravity do the work pulling it back down, only this time his fingers were resting on his lips. His tongue crept out, feeling like sandpaper on his finger tips, but it was the best he could do to tell them what he meant.

"His tongue?" Bofur guessed, and Bilbo nodded. "He licked yeh?" Bofur guessed again, and Bilbo nodded again.

"He must have some kind of healing enzyme in his saliva." Legolas murmured, more to himself than to the other, but Bilbo once again nodded. Thorin opened his mouth to ask a question, mostly likely the 'Why' that he'd wanted to know a minute ago, but he was interrupted by the sound of great whooshes of air. Bofur and Legolas looked pained to have to leave Bilbo to Smaug's mercy, but Thorin simply grabbed Bofur and yanked him up to his feet.

"We'll come back for you burglar." Thorin murmured before leaving with Bofur trailing unhappily after him. Legolas stroked his cheek for a moment before standing as well.

"I promise, we'll return." He said, in a much more heartfelt, pleasant tone. Bilbo watched as the three of them disappeared back into the tunnel, wanting to cry as they did. For a myriad of reasons. Mostly because he couldn't go with them. But also because Thorin...well he hardly even recognized the Dwarf. He had been so impersonal, so harsh. He didn't look concerned for Bilbo, and his eyes were continuously roving over the treasure surrounding them, always looking for that one jewel. Which happened to be within Bilbo's pocket.

Bilbo had to wonder, if he had given Thorin the stone right then and there...would Thorin even care about what happened to him after that? Would he leave Bilbo, chained and collared and at Smaug's mercy while he summoned his army? Would he even care to rescue Bilbo once the army did come? His eyes watered and Thranduil's words echoed in his head.

"_The moment Thorin steps foot in the treasury, he will begin to change. He will fall prey to the madness that took his grandfather and his father, and which has taken many of his relatives. Gold Sickness will make him someone you do not want to know."_

Bilbo had tried so hard to believe it wouldn't happen to Thorin. The Hobbit had hoped that the yelling he had done, followed by Thorin's comforting, in Lake Town, as well tender moment they spent when they opened the secret entrance, meant that Thorin wasn't going to be like his family. Maybe he could be better than the Gold Sickness. But...the Thorin of the last few days, and the Thorin in the dungeons of Mirkwood, said something different all together. How could he so easily abandon Bilbo? How could he be so cold and focused only on what he wanted?

Bilbo was literally shaken from his thoughts as Smaug landed on the pile of gold Bilbo was laying on. The Dragon stretched before his body started writhing and changing, shrinking. Bilbo watched in undisguised fascination as Smaug's wings vanished, and his scales receded, and his tail retracted. He shrank and changed until he was standing as a Man, and this time Bilbo had the misfortune of noticing that he was naked. But his eyes didn't linger on that, they were drawn to the two things that Smaug was holding. A silver jug and a burlap sack, both of which he carelessly tossed next to Bilbo before sitting. He maneuvered himself so that he was sitting cross legged and then pulled Bilbo onto his lap. Bilbo could offer no resistance.

"I see some of your little friends came to find you." Smaug spoke as though it didn't bother him, though Bilbo's heart was hammering far too fast to reply, even if he could. He thought Smaug would be furious, but the Dragon was utterly calm. Smaug reached for the silver jug, helping Bilbo sit up before bringing the jug to his lips. Bilbo tried to sniff at the liquid that Smaug was trying to get him to drink, but he smelled nothing. "Oh don't be so paranoid, it's only water. Drink." Smaug commanded, tilting the jug up so the water could meet with Bilbo's cracked lips.

Once Bilbo had one swallow of water, he needed more. His throat begged for it. He did his best to raise his arms to hold the jug on his own, but Smaug only seemed to find it amusing, and continued holding the container for the parched Hobbit. When Bilbo's frenzy for water died down, Smaug put the jug to the side and chuckled. Bilbo had drunk quite a bit, but there was still a lot of the water now soaking the Hobbit's shirt.

"A-Are you a-angry?" Bilbo whispered once he felt he could speak without shattering his throat. Smaug considered it for a moment before shaking his head.

"I knew they would come. I hoped that they would be stupid enough to come while I was still here, but it appears they took advantage of my hunting." Smaug replied, still sounding absurdly calm. "And they only proved a point." He added, reaching for the burlap sack.

"A point?" Bilbo questioned, wary of the bag now that he noticed that there was fresh blood dripping from the bottom.

"That they can't save you. I have the key to your chain, and your collar. And only I can release you." Smaug told him proudly and reached into the bag, pulling out something that Bilbo could only guess was part of deer at one point. He gagged a little at the sight, though he tried to hide it from Smaug. The Dragon of course noticed anyways, though he was hardly intending to feed the Hobbit raw meat. He knew enough about the lesser life forms to know that they got sick if they ate raw meat.

Smaug summoned his fire and breathed it out at a slow interval, carefully cooking the deer leg all the way through until it was appropriate for Bilbo to eat. He tore off a chunk and held it up to Bilbo's mouth. Bilbo really didn't want to be fed, he'd had enough of that in Lake Town when his hands were bound. But he also did not want to anger Smaug. He was also quite confused about why Smaug was bothering to feed him at all. Smaug must have sensed his hesitance and inquiry.

"You'll be weak for a quite a few days, you lost so much blood my little pet. But food and water and rest will help you heal faster." The Dragon told him, with an almost caring tone. Bilbo's brows scrunched up, even more confused. "How am I supposed to get any kind of entertainment or use from a damaged pet? I will heal you and then you will amuse me." Smaug told him confidently, tearing off another piece of meat.

"H-How can I amuse you?" Bilbo asked, though he was unsure he truly wanted to know. Smaug chuckled and stuffed the meat into Bilbo's mouth.

"I can think of many things we can do. First of all, I expect a long interesting story about why you have come here from your homeland. As well, I want to know why you nearly bled yourself dry." If Bilbo weren't so frightfully low on blood, some of it might have risen to his cheeks at the patronizing tone the Dragon took. He turned his eyes away from Smaug's face and towards the food the Dragon was still trying to feed him. Bilbo could hardly taste it. He wasn't even hungry, but he knew he should eat. Even if he was being fed by a Dragon.

Smaug seemed content enough to simply sit in silence as he fed Bilbo. He had to make sure his pet was in good health, first and foremost. His venom could cure many things, but he had no way of replenishing lost blood. He could only hope that a Hobbit was good at regenerating. If Smaug was right, and he usually was, his little Bilbo had been bleeding himself for quite some time, so obviously his body was used to it. Maybe not to the extent that he had gone in recent days, but it was used to running on less blood than a normal Hobbit.

Smaug was not usually one to mother and heal and fret. But Bilbo was so little, so adorable. It felt wrong to think of the Hobbit bleeding to death, or burning to death, or starving. Any of the deaths he could think of did not seem to fit. Which would make it problematic when he did finally decide to kill Bilbo. Still, he did not intend to make such a decision for a long while yet. Not until Bilbo stopped being of use. His use at the moment was simply that he gave Smaug something to do. It was frightfully boring being a Dragon some days. Having an adorable Hobbit to heal gave him something to do, even if it wasn't in his usual list of behaviors.

Bilbo did not trust him, that was obvious, but he did not need to trust him. In fact, he shouldn't trust him. Smaug was a Dragon, after all. And one day, Smaug _would_ kill Bilbo. Until that day, Bilbo would be perfectly safe in his care. Well...unless Smaug decided that he wasn't. He was fickle. He may very well decide to torture Bilbo just for the fun of it. He doubted he would, because remembering Bilbo drenched in blood and shaking was not something he wanted to do, much less relive. What was it exactly about this little creature that made him doubt his very instincts as a Dragon? He should adore the thought of blood and gore, for any creature! And yet, Bilbo was one of the few beings he had ever met whom he wished to heal rather than destroy.

"Are all Hobbits so endearing?" Smaug questioned randomly. Bilbo jumped a little at the out of the blue question and swallowed the bite of deer in his mouth.

"Endearing?" He asked, wary of what the Wyrm was asking.

"I am a Dragon, little Bilbo. I do not spend much of my time healing dying creatures who have stolen from me. By all rights I should want to see you bleed to death at my hand. And yet, for some reason, it disturbs me when I remember you drenched in blood. I can only assume it is your fault that I am having these domestic thoughts." Smaug said rationally, though Bilbo looked even paler than before, if that were possible.

"So, _not_ picturing me bleeding to death is considered domestic?" Bilbo asked, being startlingly bold. Smaug was surprisingly amused by the Hobbit's sass, rather than annoyed. He grinned, and Bilbo shrunk further into himself. Bilbo swallowed thickly and looked away from the Dragon. "I do not know if Hobbits are endearing. I do not know why you seem to think I am endearing. I was under the impression that I am problematic and rather useless." Bilbo told him softly, mournfully. Smaug felt irrationally indignant at the suggestion of Bilbo being problematic and useless.

"Who would say such a thing about you?" He demanded, capturing Bilbo's face in his hand and pointing it back towards him. Bilbo's eyes grew wide at the anger on Smaug's face and he tried to pull away from Smaug's claw. But the Dragon only strengthened his hold and growled in his throat. "Who would dare to insult my pet?"

"N-No one!" Bilbo yelped, though it was obviously a lie.

"Tell me little Hobbit or I shall become quite sorely displeased!" Smaug hissed and Bilbo sputtered out an answer before he could further incur the Dragon's wrath.

"T-The company! T-They said I was useless and a hindrance and stupid when all I wanted was to be included and help them and I gave up my simple life for them! But they still thought I was hopeless and nothing but a foolish Hobbit who should have stayed home!" Bilbo rambled before squeezing his eyes shut. He did not care to see what kind of expression Smaug would have at his admission. He certainly wasn't expecting to be collected and held to Smaug's chest while the Dragon murmured something in a language Bilbo did not understand. Eventually Smaug's rambling turned into Westron and Bilbo was shocked at what he was saying.

"My pet, mine. No one will hurt you my pet. You are not useless, you are mine and you are of great use because you are mine. I will end all of them, every last one. My pet, not theirs, and no one calls my pet useless and stupid." Smaug continued saying such things for a few minutes before growling and gently putting Bilbo back onto the pile of gold he was sitting on. And then he stood, with murder in his eyes. "I will end them." He growled and Bilbo's heart stuttered with fear. What had he done?

"No! Please, don't! Please don't kill them!" Smaug frowned down at Bilbo but reluctantly allowed Bilbo to argue for his tormentors lives.

"And why should I spare the idiots who dared insult my pet?" Smaug questioned, his voice as sharp as a razor's edge.

"T-They didn't mean to hurt my feelings! They thought I was like them, and I could take being insulted. A-And the one who said the meanest things wanted to make me go home, so I would be safe. He said those horrible things to try and protect me!" Bilbo still wasn't convinced of that, because it had all felt so real and personal when Thorin had said those things. But if it would keep Smaug from going on a murderous rampage and killing the company, he would pretend to believe it. Smaug huffed, a little cloud of black smoke rising from his lips, but he rolled his shoulders back and looked placated enough.

"They still deserve to die." He said, though he was sitting down again, so Bilbo believed he probably wouldn't be killing any Dwarves just yet. Smaug pulled Bilbo back onto his lap and tore off more meat, offering it to Bilbo. When the Hobbit shook his head, for now he truly was not hungry, the Dragon ate it himself, petting Bilbo's curls as he looked off into the distant golden hills, obviously deep in thought. Bilbo shuddered, wondering what he could possibly be thinking about. But he probably didn't want to know. And as much as it riled him up in his mind to be treated like a pet, he remained still and let Smaug toy with his curls. At least he wasn't being eaten or getting his company killed. If it kept everyone safe, he would bare being a pet. Even if it shattered his remaining hope for every going home and being happy again.

If he was honest with himself, he knew he would never see the Shire again. Yes, he hoped. Every day he hoped to see the rolling hills and the little rivers. It wouldn't be the same, because he wasn't the same. And even if he survived to return, he would stay with Beorn for quite a while before going to the Shire. Would it still be there, whole and beautiful, by the time he got back? If he ever got back. In his current situation, he held no hope of seeing it again. No, he would probably die there in Erebor. Either by Smaug's hands, or perhaps Thorin's hands when he saw Bilbo so pathetic and complaint to the Dragon. Or maybe his own hands, now that he thought about it. He'd obviously come far to close to that already. But, compared to this...was that really such a bad thing? Would it really be so terrible to drift away as his blood ran out of his veins, if it meant being free of the Dragon and the Gold Sick Dwarf King?

Bilbo slipped off into a dreamless sleep sometime later, a little frown on his face from the things he was surely _over_ thinking. Smaug chuckled at his little pout and laid down, tucking the small body in next to him. Being a Dragon, he could sleep for centuries. But he could also stay awake for decades. And he was content to just watch his pet, and keep an eye out for those despicable, death deserving rats called Dwarves. If he saw even one of them, he would not cease until they were all dead, and Bilbo was his. Only his. He swore it.

OOOOO

Thorin, Legolas, and Bofur stood just within the tunnel, listening to the Dragon and their Hobbit speak. Eventually it appeared that Bilbo was asleep, or that Smaug had simply decided he was done conversing for the moment, because it grew very quiet. And in the stillness, guilt pressed heavily on the two Dwarves, while rage grew in the Elf's belly. Bilbo still hurt so badly because of the things they had said to and about him. And even though he defended them, he did not sound convinced of what he was saying.

Legolas glared at the two, though mostly at Thorin, and felt an ache deep in his soul. He wanted so bad to comfort Bilbo. Everything in his nature said he should be the one who comforted the Hobbit who he was in love with. He could not deny that he was in love with Bilbo, even if Bilbo did not love him back. And all he wanted was to protect the little Hobbit. He had failed Bilbo, in many ways, and it was physically hurting him now to think of Bilbo as Smaug's captive and _pet_. And even worse, that there was nothing he could do about it.

Eventually Thorin made a face and started walking back up the tunnel. Bofur reluctantly followed, and Legolas even more reluctantly started after them. Once they were back in the little camp they had set up at the top of the tunnel, he could no longer contain himself and he let out a string of curses in Sindarin. Thorin turned to him with a raised brow, as if daring the Elf to question his judgment. In the end, Legolas didn't have to.

"We shouldn't have left him! Who knows what Smaug could do to him!" Bofur fretted, Bombur immediately waddling over to try and comfort his brother.

"Obviously Smaug is quite taken with Bilbo. He won't hurt him. Not yet." Thorin sounded so confident, but his confidence and cool denouement about the situation only drove Legolas' anger higher.

"How can you be so calm when the one you profess to love is being held as Smaug's pet?" He demanded, only barely keeping himself from outright snarling at the Dwarf. Thorin clenched his hands and had to calm himself for a moment before he could address Legolas.

"And what would you suggest I do Elf? Weep bitterly and sulk around doing nothing? If the moral of my company is better served by my acting heartbroken, I will defer to your advice. But until that is truly the case, I will remain level headed and use my anger and sadness in a conductive way!" Thorin snapped, and Legolas found that, though he had many thing to say to the Dwarf, none of them would come to his lips. "Dwalin, Balin!" Thorin barked for his advisers and marched away to a more secluded part of the tunnel, the two Dwarves hurrying over to him. Legolas glared after the Dwarf King before storming to the corner where he and Bilbo had sat only a day ago. How he missed his Hobbit.

"Thorin will snap out of it." Bofur told him gently, and Legolas looked up in surprise. He didn't hear the Dwarf approach him. He must be very upset to let a Dwarf sneak up on him!

"And if he doesn't? My father has told me of the bane of Durin's line. What if Thorin is suffering the same that his grandfather and father did? There is no cure for such a Madness." Legolas suggested, and Bofur looked uncomfortable.

"I believe Thorin is stronger than that. At least I hope so." Bofur tried to smile, and surprisingly, Legolas tried to smile back. He wasn't very fond of Dwarves. He tolerated them more than his father did, but they always rubbed him the wrong way. Only a few of them refrained from making Legolas want to swear. Bofur was one of those few.

"I hope so too." He admitted. Bofur tilted his head in question, not expecting that from Legolas. "For Bilbo's sake...I hope you're right."

OOOOO

_AN: I actually like Smaug. And no, he will not be developing any romantic feelings for Bilbo, so don't worry about that. Two people pining over our Hobbit is quite enough. Feel free to leave a question or comment! _


	8. Chapter 8

_AN: Whew! I gotta tell you, I was nervous about how close I cut it with finishing this chapter. I nearly had a panic attack when I realized last night it was only half done. But anyways...enjoy! Though this chapter did make me sad. I won't say why. _

OOOOO

Bilbo felt fingers toying with the curls of his hair and for a moment he could imagine that it was Thorin. That he was leaning on the Dwarf's warm chest, and Thorin was running his big fingers through his hair. A small smile even touched his lips. But then he heard a sound like a purr, a sound that Thorin would never even try to make. And the reality came crashing back on him. He blinked a few times, clearing the sleep from his eyes, before glancing up.

He was indeed laying on a chest, one that was warm and glowed softly with fire to keep Bilbo from becoming chilled. But it was not Thorin like Bilbo so wished it could be. Smaug looked down at him and purred again, glad to see his pet awake. Bilbo flushed and tried to sit up, only for Smaug's arm to wrap around his shoulders and bring him back down to his chest. Bilbo squeaked a little in surprise and fear but laid still so as not to upset the Dragon.

"Do you need water, pet?" Smaug rumbled and Bilbo nodded. The Dragon did not even bother to let Bilbo go, simply reaching with his free arm to grab the silver pitcher before picking up a golden cup. It looked a lot like the cup Bilbo had stolen, but it had subtle differences. The gems were green instead of red, and there were leaves embossed on the gold instead of runes. Smaug filled it with water before offering it to Bilbo. The Hobbit tried to drink it, but in his awkward position, most of it ended up on Smaug's chest.

"I-I'm s-sorry!" Bilbo gasped, cringing in fear, ready to be struck or killed. Smaug only chuckled and loosed his hold on Bilbo so the Hobbit could sit up to drink. Bilbo watched him carefully as he drank the rest of the water. When the cup was empty, Smaug yanked on the chain of his collar and Bilbo flailed a little as he was pulled back onto the Dragon. Literally, as he inadvertently ended up straddling Smaug to keep from collapsing across his chest. Smaug didn't seem to mind, in fact he made that odd purring noise again.

"You're very small. It's a wonder you survived a quest at all. All Hobbits are your size, you said, except that they are larger in the middle. Which makes me believe that not many of them venture from their home. Why did you?" Smaug demanded, toying with the chain but not pulling on it. Bilbo shifted nervously, not wanting to remain on top of Smaug in such a way, but afraid to try and move.

"I-I come from a more adventurous house, the Tooks. My mother was one. I wanted to go on an adventure, and the Dwarves wanted their home back. I wanted to help them." Bilbo explained, keeping his eyes locked on Smaug's chest. It was still a warm red, heat radiating from beneath his skin, and heating the droplets of water Bilbo had spilled on him. It created a fine steam that Bilbo couldn't help but reach out and let curl around his fingers. Smaug smiled, very slightly, at the action and let his fire heat up more so the stream would rise in thicker bands.

"Did you begin to self injure before or after you left on your little adventure?" Smaug asked in such a blunt tone that Bilbo was a little dumbstruck for a few moments. Smaug rolled his eyes and snatched Bilbo's wrist, which was still playing with steam. He pulled the sleeve of Bilbo's tunic up until he could see every pale, raised scar on the Hobbit's arm. "There are many here, though none of them look particularly old. I would say the oldest would be a year at the most. Given the fact that you live in the west, past the Misty Mountains I would guess, I can only assume it's taken you more than a year to reach the mountain. Thus, I conclude that you began harming yourself after leaving your Shire." Smaug sounded really satisfied with himself, but Bilbo could only gape at him.

"H-How do you know all that?" Bilbo managed to ask, squirming uncomfortably.

"I know many things, little pet. For instance that the Elf in your company has affections for you, but you hold none for him." Bilbo blushed heavily and tried to shrink away from Smaug. In an instant their positions were reversed, and Smaug was crouching over him, so he had no where to go. "A Dragon can smell many things Bilbo. Hormones and bodily chemicals are fairly elementary. The Elf secrets the scents of worry and adoration around you, he even touched you with his rank little hand."

"How do you know I don't fancy him?" Bilbo pushed aside his fear to ask the question, genuinely interested by how Smaug could know all of this. The Dragon stooped down to sniff at Bilbo's forehead, where the Hobbit vaguely remembered Legolas touching him when he, Thorin, and Bofur came to visit.

"If you did, your own chemicals would have come forth when he touched you, and I only smell his. But...a little later, after his scent was already on your skin for some time, you began excreting pheromones as well. I assume it was because of one of the two dwarfs who also entered my treasury. But I have to wonder why you would allow yourself to care for one of the Company that called you worthless and a burden." Smaug reminded him, a frown settling on his handsome features. Bilbo blushed and looked away, only for Smaug to put his finger beneath the Hobbit's chin and tilted his face back. "Come now, I deserve a little story don't I? I spared your life, and the lives of those filthy, ungrateful Dwarves." One of Smaug's eyebrows arched and Bilbo shivered. It was true, and he would not risk inciting the Dragon.

"I do not fancy him. He is my friend, that is all. At first, I thought he hated me, and I feared him. I saved his life, just east of the Misty Mountains, and he started to treat me differently. He apologized and he was even...protective. He wanted me to talk to him about my nightmares and he seemed genuinely concerned." Bilbo sighed, thinking back to their journey through Mirkwood. The way Thorin was always keeping his eye on Bilbo, how he looked so regretful about making Bilbo cry at Beorn's, and all the times before.

"After months of abuse, you still became fond of him?" Smaug sneered.

"He is my leader and I am lucky that he is my friend! I do not feel detested and despised for once, so I feel...grateful to him, I suppose. But...he changed in the dungeons of Mirkwood. He looked so happy to see me and then...as soon as he thought Thranduil and Legolas wanted something from the mountain, he turned into someone...much different." Smaug was quiet, and that was scarier than anything. Then the Dragon snarled lightly and leaned in so close that his nose was nearly touching Bilbo's.

"Thorin Oakenshield." The Dragon growled, and Bilbo's heart skipped a few beats. "Your beloved Dwarf...is Thorin Oakenshield." He added, sounding even angrier.

"He is not my beloved! How do you-"

"Oh don't be dull little Bilbo! I remember his stench from so long ago, when I took this mountain. I knew he was here. And the change you are speaking of can only be a result of Gold Madness. I did not think you would be foolish enough to think he could care for you!" He roared, his chest flaring with fire again. Bilbo whimpered and tried to burrow further into the gold beneath him to get away from that heat. "Thorin Oakenshield cares for one thing, and it is in your pocket!" He added with a hiss and Bilbo's heart stopped beating in his chest for what felt like hours. Smaug reached into said pocked and pulled the Arkenstone out to shine in the dim light of the treasury.

"You knew?" Bilbo choked out, surprised he was even still alive.

"Of course I knew. I did not say anything, because I was curious to see if you would give it to Oakenshield or not. When you did not, I decided I did not have to worry about it. But if I were kind, I would destroy it here and now. I am almost tempted to give it to him myself, just to watch his mind bend and collapse under its influence." Smaug said with the utmost _disgust_ for the thing in his hand.

"I thought Dragons adored gems." Bilbo couldn't honestly think of anything better to say. Smaug snorted and rolled his eyes, but then smiled bitterly.

"This gem is nothing but pain and trouble. I would have been rid of it some time ago but I was too lazy to cast it out. Should I Bilbo? Should I destroy it? Or should I deliver it to him, and watch him be reduced to Madness for my own amusement?" Smaug didn't seem to want an answer, which was good because Bilbo's mind was buzzing to furiously for him to even think of providing one. The Dragon lazily ran his thumb over the smooth surface of the beautiful gem, eyes looking far away though they were locked on Bilbo's face. When he seemed to snap out of his trance, the Dragon considered him, and then gem in his hands, before putting the Arkenstone back in Bilbo's pocket. Bilbo's brow scrunched in curiosity and caution.

"I will have nothing to do with it. Give it to your little Dwarf King in Exile if you will. It will be amusing. Or do not, and spare all of your company the pain. As far as I am concerned, the Arkenstone is yours to do with as you please." The Dragon told him. Smaug smiled a little, because that look of confusion was so adorable on Bilbo's face. "But be warned, my pet, the moment I see one of your Dwarves, I will kill them. They are trespassing after all, rude thankless ingrates." Smaug huffed.

"D-Do you...never mind." Bilbo flushed and turned his face to the side. Smaug turned it back.

"Do I what?" Smaug asked, obviously curious.

"What is happening to Thorin? Why does he act..._strange_ sometimes? Is that what the Madness does to him? Will he continue to act like that?" Bilbo inquired nervously. Smaug chuckled, reaching down to play with his curls.

"I'm afraid so, little one. And this is just the beginning. He will become completely consumed, looking for that stone. And if he finds it, he will become much like his grandfather. Selfish and possessive and paranoid. He will alienate himself in his greed and become suspicious of even his friends and family. He will be obsessed with the gold and jewels in this mountain, caring more about the treasure than his own life. In many ways, he will be no better than I am." Bilbo shivered at the thought.

"B-But he...when we opened the door...he was so...he was not like that at all. He was gentle and I could feel the heartbeat of the mountain with him. How could that Thorin become someone so...lost?" Bilbo rambled, missing the look that crossed Smaug's face.

"Does he proclaim to care for you?" The Dragon demanded. Bilbo flushed, telling Smaug all he needed to know and more. "He does. He probably even believes he loves you. I do know about Dwarves, my pet. I have an extensive knowledge of all the races. The heartbeat of the mountain is very special to their pathetic race. Something shared only with their family and close friends. And their lovers." Smaug explained, making Bilbo's blush grow fiercer.

"H-He doesn't love me. He can't." Bilbo whispered, more to himself than to Smaug. The Dragon quirked his head curiously, intrigued by Bilbo's denial.

"I wish you were right, but I believe you are not." Smaug murmured before huffing and standing. Bilbo sat up and watched him carefully as he paced. "If that fool thinks he is getting one piece of gold from my mountain, or my pet, he is gravely mistaken. I would rather see that poncy Elf King frolicking through my treasure than Thorin Oakenshield." Smaug snarled. Frankly, Bilbo agreed with him. If the treasure of Erebor was going to change Thorin so much, and in such a frightening way, he never wanted Thorin to enter the mountain again.

"Is there nothing that can be done for him?" Bilbo asked quietly, not really expecting or wanting an answer from Smaug. He was surprised when Smaug snorted a laugh.

"Even if there were a way, Thorin Oakenshield would not be willing to try. He will be claimed by his Madness and be very comfortable with it. And you are lucky that he will not be able to get his hands on you. Even if you are not his courted or his consort, he will still believe you to be rightfully his. And in his Sickness, that will not bode well for you."

"What do you mean?" Bilbo hesitated to ask, but knew he had to.

"I mean that you would essentially become his property, in his messed up head. Property that he can beat on a bad day, bury in gold and jewels on a good day, and fuck any old day he pleases." Bilbo's face showed pure horror for a moment before he quickly directed it down at the ground.

"That's not true. He wouldn't do that to me." Bilbo whispered, and Smaug sneered, reaching down to pull Bilbo's face back up.

"Look at my face, little pet, and tell me that I am lying." He hissed, keeping Bilbo's face directed at his own until tears welled up in his big blue eyes. "If it weren't for me, you would bear the pain of belonging to Thorin Oakenshield. I can guarantee you that, while I am cruel, I am the lesser evil." He added harshly before releasing his face. Bilbo scrambled back a few feet before sagging in on himself, defeat and resignation in his eyes. Smaug softened and approached his pet again, crouching to be eye level with the little thing. "I am doing you a favor, little Hobbit, by keeping you. I will be good to you. Until the moment I kill you. And even then, you will not suffer." Smaug purred, petting Bilbo's curls.

Bilbo said nothing, just tried to keep himself from crying. He did not want to cry. Not then, not ever. But the tears kept building until finally they spilled over and down his cheeks. Smaug made a sound like a whine and sat down rather ungracefully, pulling Bilbo onto his lap. He stroked his fingers through Bilbo's hair as the Hobbit cried, smirking lightly to himself. He could smell Oakenshield, and two other Dwarves, not too far away. He knew they had arrived as he was telling Bilbo about Thorin's Madness, and he knew they could hear Bilbo crying now.

It was only the first step of his revenge. He wanted those miserable Dwarves to know the pain that Bilbo had no doubt felt every time they insulted him. He wanted them to see how sad the Hobbit was. And then he would kill them. Individually and after hearing every bad thing they'd said about Bilbo. Once they were all gone, he could correct Bilbo's line of thinking, heal him physically, get what use he could from the Hobbit, and then kill him as well. He didn't want Bilbo to die thinking poorly of himself, after all. That would just be uncalled for.

He still had much to do before that time came though. He had much he wanted to do with Bilbo and learn from Bilbo, and he would begin asking his questions when the Hobbit calmed down. Until then, he was content with knowing he was tormenting Oakenshield and his company enough already. Oh yes. It was quite pleasant.

OOOOO

"I'll kill him. I run a knife right through his throat." Thorin growled, Balin laying his hand on the Dwarf's shoulder. It didn't really work to calm Thorin any, but it made Balin feel like he was doing something. The older Dwarf exchanged glances with his younger brother and they both took one of Thorin's arms.

"Come on lad, nothing to be done right now." Balin sighed, and surprisingly, Thorin let them lead him away. When they had been walking for a bit, and Thorin still had not said anything, Balin decided to keep talking. Maybe it would distract the King a bit. "An idea could be for you to approach Bilbo, like Smaug expects, and have some of the others hiding. So when Smaug comes up behind you, or confronts you, one of the hiding members of the Company can come up behind him and kill him." Balin proposed.

"Or we could just have Kili or the Elf wait at the door, distract the Dragon, and have them shoot an arrow." Dwalin stated, with an eye roll. His older brother had always been the more dramatic one. It was only rarely that he made a better attack plan than Dwalin did.

"Yes, that would be more prudent." Balin admitted, only sounding mildly annoyed. "We should act soon, as we are running out of supplies. We need to send someone back up the outside of the mountain to see if any of the other packs survived. Or perhaps, the old storehouses of the kingdom. They were made to withstand several centuries of neglect, after all." Balin knew he was rambling, in the hope of getting Thorin to participate and stop thinking about Smaug and Bilbo. And he was sure Dwalin and Thorin saw it for what it was as well. But Thorin remained dark and glassy eyed and scowling.

"We'll bring Kili and the Elf down later to see if they have a clear shot." Dwalin proposed, to which Thorin only grunted in reply. The King's thoughts were far from the subject. They were buzzing with the fear in Bilbo's voice. Not fear of Smaug, but rather fear of Gold Sickness. Was the Madness of Durin's line really more frightening than a fire breathing Dragon? Worse, was the Sickness already beginning to take him? It was true, he had been devoting more thoughts to the treasury than previous, but it was only natural for a Dwarf to linger on gold and jewels. And he had every right to think of the Arkenstone, as frequently and as intensely as he pleased!

He would not fall to Gold Sickness, he had already promised himself that. He would show Bilbo that he was just fine! Once that damned Dragon was taken care of, he would show Bilbo exactly how unaffected he was! And Bilbo would be so glad, so relieved! Maybe he would even give Thorin a kiss...

OOOOO

"Have you calmed down my pet?" Smaug asked some time after Bilbo's sobs had died down to sniffles. Bilbo pitifully wiped his nose on his sleeve and nodded somewhat numbly. He always felt so tired after crying. It wasn't so much that his body was exhausted, but his soul was. Everything inside of him was screaming with sorrow and he just wanted to close his eyes and block it out. Apparently Smaug wanted to talk though. "Tell me about your journey. What path did you take to get here?" Smaug prompted, sounding more excited than he probably meant to. Bilbo had to take a few moments before he could get himself to talk. He really just wanted to close his eyes and beg for sleep, but he knew it was a lost cause.

"The Dwarves journeyed from the Blue Mountains to the Shire, where they convinced me to join the quest. It took a few days before we passed out of the Shire, and weeks of walking through the forest and plains before we ended up in Rivendell." Bilbo told him, though his voice lacked bravado. He was usually good at telling stories, but he was not in the mood to put on a show at that particular moment.

"Had you already begun self injuring by that time?" Smaug questioned, and strangely Bilbo did not care that it was such a blunt question.

"I began cutting almost two weeks before we reached Rivendell." Bilbo paused to see if he would comment, but Smaug only frowned and laid his head sideways so his cheek rested on Bilbo's curls. "After Rivendell we started to cross over the Misty Mountains. We camped in a cave where the floor retracted as we slept and we were plunged into Goblin Town." Surprisingly, Smaug made a noise of disgust at this. Bilbo tried to peek up at him, but couldn't quite manage it with their position.

"Nasty, disgusting, ugly creatures. I avoid them at all cost." Smaug sneered, shifting so Bilbo was tucked in closer to him. Bilbo got the feeling he was being used as a cuddling object, but he supposed it could be worse.

"I thought all the dark creatures of Middle Earth got along." Bilbo murmured hesitantly. He didn't want to insult Smaug, but he was curious. Smaug snorted, rolling his eyes.

"As if I could 'get along' with those sniveling insignificant little wastes of space. I would rather enjoy setting them all aflame. The wargs too. They're an insult to the dark forces of our world." Smaug sounded quite poetic as he talked, actually. Bilbo felt himself smile, and then frowned because it was such an unfamiliar feeling. He hadn't smiled in...so long. Smaug watched Bilbo's actions, and his emotions which flickered across his open face, before sighing. "Why do you hesitate to smile my little pet? I hardly ever aim to please by joking, but when I do, I like for my efforts to be rewarded."

"It's just...hard for me to smile..." Bilbo replied, looking anywhere but the Dragon. Smaug huffed, frowning.

"I imagine you smiled a lot, before your journey. You have smile lines, though not as many as I would think would be normal for a Hobbit, living in safety and happiness." Smaug had stated a fact and his opinion, but within them Bilbo could sense a question. Why did Bilbo stop smiling once on the journey? And why didn't he smile much before the journey either.

"The journey was stressful...and the Dwarves didn't like me. Of course I did not smile. But...when I lived in the Shire...I did not smile as often as the other Hobbits. I am a bit of a rare case, in my community. I am an only child who lost both parents before even reaching my maturity. I did not have very many friends, and I did not like my extended family very well. So I did not have much cause to smile, like the other Hobbits." Bilbo admitted. Smaug rumbled something in his strange language before curling further around Bilbo.

"Was it because of your lack of satisfaction with life in the Shire that you left on your journey?"

"Oh, I was very satisfied with my life. I had no desire to leave. But...I wasn't happy. I was hoping that an adventure, one of such noble intent at that, would make me happy. And that I would return to the Shire with lots of stories for the little fauntlings and a sense of self satisfaction. And you can see how well that worked out for me." Bilbo whispered the last sentence, flushing a little.

"And now that you have been on your adventure, and suffered for it, would you still want to go back to the Shire?" Of course, Smaug had no plans of letting Bilbo go, but he was curious. Would the Hobbit really survive returning to his home, after so much had happened to him. Bilbo sniffled miserably and shook his head. Smaug hummed to himself, reaching up to tangle his hand in Bilbo's curls. He admitted to himself that he adored the golden curls. He loved playing with them, and Bilbo always seemed a little more relaxed when he did.

"And where did you think you would go, after the journey's end, if not to your home? Would you stay here, in Erebor, with your pathetic Dwarves and their Gold Man King? Or maybe you intended to return to the Elf's home. He would like that." Smaug suggested, but Bilbo only shook his head again.

"There was a Man we stayed with, before going through Mirkwood. He was kind and he cared about me, he did not hate me for my cutting. I wanted to stay with him. I was set on it, in fact. I suppose I'll never see him again now." Bilbo felt his heart aching in his chest. He'd never see Beorn again, or Elrond. He'd never see Rivendell or the Shire, anything again. Just this treasury and Smaug. He wasn't sure how long he would last. He did not pretend to assume it would be a long time. If his mind did not give out soon, then it would be Smaug who got bored of him and killed him. Either way, he had accepted that fact. He'd never leave. And as much as it hurt to think about, it was the truth. As if he could hear Bilbo's thoughts, Smaug whined lightly.

"You're so sad, my little pet. But I will not be bad to you. I will feed you and keep you warm and we will have many engaging conversations." Smaug promised, laying his head on Bilbo's curls again. "You're such a good, sweet little pet. I'm going to keep you for as long as I can." He purred, and Bilbo shivered. "My pet. My adorable little Hobbit."

OOOOO

The sun was setting when Balin and Dwalin went to Kili and Legolas to propose their idea. Both archers readily accepted their proposition and the four debated when the best time to go down to the treasury would be. Balin turned to ask Thorin and it was only then that they realized the Dwarf King was no where to be seen. It was Dwalin who stated what they were all thinking.

"He's gone to the treasury again." The bald warrior muttered.

"He's going to ruin the whole plan!" Legolas snapped, and no one argued with him, per say. Some of them shifted, some looked annoyed, but Bofur was not the only one who nodded his agreement. "We have to go now, before he gets Bilbo killed!" Legolas could not in fact care less about Thorin's health, but if the Dwarf King got Bilbo hurt...it would not be Smaug who killed the idiotic imbecile.

"Let's go." Balin agreed, beginning to lead the other three back down the passage. The other Dwarves exchanged glances, debating whether they should stay there or go with them. Fili was the first to go after them, quickly jumping up so he wouldn't loose sight of his brother. Bofur hesitatingly trailed after the elder prince and was followed closely by his brothers. Ori began to walk after them as well, and of course Nori and Dori would not be letting him without them. Gloin and Oin brought up the rear of the group, more curious to see the Dragon die than to see any showdown between Smaug and Thorin.

Dwalin stuck his head out of the tunnel first, and glanced around for any immediate sight of Thorin, or the Dragon. He did spy Smaug, and Bilbo wrapped up firmly in his long pale limbs, but he could not see Thorin anywhere.

"That's Smaug?" Kili whispered from behind him. Dwalin pushed the smaller Dwarf back before turning to the others.

"I don't see Thorin. We'll proceed with our plan, but be watchful for the dumb ass." He commanded, then gestured for the company to stay back while he and Balin went about creating a distraction.

Across the way, hidden in a dark corner, Thorin kept his blazing blue eyes on Bilbo. The Hobbit looked resigned, if not depressed, in the Dragon's arm's. And he looked so small, so fragile. Thorin wanted him, in that moment, more than ever. He wanted to protect Bilbo, but a darker part of him wanted to ruin Bilbo. Make sure everyone knew who the Hobbit belonged to. Not the Dragon, not the Elf, but him! Bilbo was his! Thorin briefly glanced at the tunnel entrance, spotting the others, but he hardly even took them in. Bilbo, his Bilbo, was so close, yet so far away. Thorin wanted him back.

"You may as well come out." Smaug drawled, his impressive voice carrying all through the treasury. Bilbo looked up at the Dragon in confusion, for his proclamation was so sudden and apparently nonsensical. Thorin wasn't sure if Smaug was talking to him, or to the others, but he took the initiative and stepped out into the light. As he moved, Bilbo's eyes were drawn to him, and his eyes lit up for all of a minute before they darkened. "Thorin Oakenshield." Smaug sneered, tauntingly beginning to stroke his hand through Bilbo's hair.

"Smaug." Thorin growled in reply, eyes narrowed in a glare of pure detest.

"I wondered when you would show your face again. Looking for the Arkenstone?" Smaug questioned lazily, his hand moving down to stroke the back of Bilbo's neck, and play with the collar surrounding the Hobbit's pale throat.

"Not this time." Thorin snarled, wanting to break that hand. Smaug only chuckled, picking Bilbo up as he stood. The Hobbit gasped and clung to the Dragon, out of instinct, Thorin knew, but it still made his blood boil. Smaug put Bilbo down so he was sitting up against the pillar he was chained to and he petted Bilbo's curls for another few moments before straightening to his full height.

"Here for my pet then." Smaug stated, quirking his head to the side, daring Thorin to approach him. And of course, Thorin answered his challenge, starting to stalk forward.

"He is not _your_ pet." Thorin hissed, hardly even realizing he was putting emphasis on the wrong word. "You will pay for everything you've done, wyrm! For all those you killed, for the loss of our home! Your days of tyranny are over!" Smaug sighed, looking bored.

"Dull. Though, I do believe you've just proved a point for me." Smaug glanced down at Bilbo, who was looking at Thorin with the most hurt expression on his face. Thorin froze when he saw it, thinking back to what he could have said. When the answer came to him, all traces of anger for Smaug dropped and he just looked ashamed.

"Bilbo...I didn't mean it like that...I swear..." Thorin sounded more pleading than promising. Bilbo stared at him for another moment before quickly looking away. Smaug's smirk only got bigger. "Bilbo..." Thorin moaned mournfully.

"Drop the act Oakenshield. Little Bilbo knows all about what you are and what you will become. In the past he's been the greatest danger to himself. But we both know that's not true now. You know it would be better for him to remain with me, a Dragon, than with you." Smaug sneered, crouching to stroke Bilbo's suddenly wet cheeks.

"I would never hurt him! You've filled his head with lies and deception and made him fear me, and you will die for that!" Thorin bellowed. He pulled Orcrist from it's sheath, but before he could take a step, there was the sound of an arrow being released. Before Smaug could even turn, the arrow struck his back, though only the head made it into his thick skin. The Dragon roared in a mixture of pain and anger and he reached back to yank the offending weapon out of his thick hide. His blazing gold eyes turned to the tunnel, where Kili was standing with wide eyes. He had made the hit...but the arrow...it hadn't done barely anything! The most it had done was bring Smaug's black blood to the surface.

Bilbo squealed in fear and ducked his head down into his knees, which were pressed to his chest, as the Dragon began to change form. Smaug took his wyrm form, which towered impenetrably over them. He looked around at them all before his gaze fell on Bilbo. With one slice of his talon, the chain connecting Bilbo's collar to the pillar snapped and then he was surrounded by Smaug's warm claw.

"I suggest you say whatever you must say now, little pet, for your company will all be dead within minutes." Smaug sneered, and Bilbo whimpered, holding desperately to Smaug's hand, lest the Dragon should try to drop him. His wide eyes flickered around at the few Dwarves he could see, and a great fear for their lives temporarily overshadowed his fear of being dropped.

"P-Please Smaug...please don't kill them!" Bilbo begged, though he knew it was a futile attempt. The Dragon only rolled his eyes, before turning his face towards Thorin.

"You can be the first to die." Smaug's great belly began to glow with fire and Bilbo locked eyes with Thorin for just one moment before he was suddenly falling. A thunder roar echoed all around the room, shaking the very foundations of Erebor. It was riddled with anger, and with pain. Bilbo hardly heard it over his own shriek of fear. He felt like he fell for an eternity before he met with the unforgiving golden ground. Instantly aches and sharp pains spread through his whole body, though he did not think anything was broken.

Another crash of thunder distracted him from his pain, and he looked up in time to see a second arrow lodging itself into Smaug's chest, right where a single missing scale left a weak point. Bilbo looked around, catching sight of Legolas not too far away. The Elf narrowed his eyes and determinedly fired a third arrow, which found it's mark as surely as the first two. This one pushed even further, and Smaug shrieked with pain and rage. Legolas fired a fourth and final arrow, which broke all the way through to Smaug's heart. With a terrible explosion gold coins, Smaug fell, his face landing mere feet from Bilbo. The light was slowly dimming in his eyes, but they set on Bilbo regardless.

"Do not forget...my pet...what I have told you. Save yourself...little Hobbit..." With that, the Great Wyrm closed his eyes and exhaled one last heavy breath before life left him. In the wake of the Dragon's death, there was silence. Pure, deafening silence. No one moved, least of all Bilbo, who could only stare numbly, mouth still opened in a silent scream, at the dead beast. Legolas broke the still by running to Bilbo, sliding a little on the golden hills before surrounding the shaking Hobbit with his arms.

"Bilbo are you okay?" Legolas demanded, cupping the Hobbit's face, trying to get Bilbo to look at him. Bilbo couldn't seem to drag his eyes away from Smaug though. He...he didn't understand. Smaug was dead...it had all happened so quickly. Only two minutes previous, Smaug had been in the form of a Man, petting his hair contentedly. And now he was dead. Lifeless and probably cold. He had always had a very warm body temperature. Bilbo thought I was wrong for a Dragon to even be cold. Even in death.

"He's in shock." Oin observed, being the second person to reach Bilbo. The others were making their way closer, but it was a large room, and it was difficult to transverse the golden hills. "Bilbo, look at me." Oin tried to help by standing between Bilbo and the Dragon, but the Hobbit just continued to stare through the Dwarf, the image of Smaug's dead body still very clear in his mind. "Someone bring me water!" Oin snapped.

"There." Bilbo murmured, surprising them. Keeping his eyes locked forward, Bilbo pointed to a silver pitcher that lay a few feet away. "That's water. He went and got some for me. He wanted to take care of me." Bilbo added in a frighteningly blank voice. Kili snatched up the silver pitcher as he ran past it, handing it to Oin before collapsing to his knees beside Bilbo.

"Everybody back up, give him space!" Oin demanded of the gradually increasing crowd. Begrudgingly they listened, only Legolas remaining. Bilbo was situated between his legs, the Hobbit's back leaning against Legolas' chest. The Elf wondered worriedly if without his support Bilbo would just collapse. "Here Bilbo...take a drink." Oin said soothingly, bringing the silver pitcher to Bilbo's lips. The Hobbit did as he was told, but his eyes remained distant and wide, shocked.

He wished Smaug hadn't died, he realized with a start. The Dragon had been kind to him. He had fed him and given him water, and shown genuine interest in him. A Dragon had been kinder to him than any of the Dwarves had been, at least during the beginning of the journey. Yes, Smaug was still a Dragon and a beast, but he wasn't as cruel as everyone always made him sound. In fact, he was quite...kind. Kind enough to spare, and heal Bilbo. Kind enough to be blunt with the Hobbit. Kind enough to offer a quick, painless death, after an untold amount of time. But all of that was gone now. Smaug, Last of the Great Dragons, was gone.

"There's nothing I can do until he's calmed down. Lay him down, elevate his legs, and I'll see about finding him a blanket." Oin finally advised. Legolas did as the healer said, knowing that Oin was speaking the truth. After he was finished fussing over Bilbo, he realized something.

Thorin had not been amongst the Dwarves crowding around the shocked Hobbit. In fact, Legolas had not seen the Dwarf since Smaug had been about to roast him. Looking around now, Legolas caught sight of the Dwarf King on a different hill of mountain, looking around stoically, eyes seeking something in particular. It made the Elf's blood boil in his veins. Thorin, who had proclaimed to be so concerned for Bilbo, straightaway abandoned the Hobbit for the gold in the mountain as soon as Bilbo was out of immediate danger. He didn't even stop to check if Bilbo had broken any bones, or if the fall had left him unconscious.

Legolas growled, his anger almost overpowering. As soon as Bilbo was better, Legolas vowed to take the Hobbit away. Out of this mountain, and back to Mirkwood. He was not going to let Bilbo stay and fall prey to the King Under the Mountain. Even if Bilbo begged and pleaded him. It was better that Bilbo leave. Legolas knew it, and he was sure that Balin did as well. The elder Dwarf was also looking at Thorin now. And though he had a carefully guarded look on his face, Legolas could read concern and disappointment in his eyes.

Bilbo would not be staying in the Lonely Mountain. Not for one moment longer than was necessary. And Thorin Oakenshield would never put his dirty Dwarf hands on the Hobbit. Legolas swore it to every star in the sky.

OOOOO

_AN: You guys are seriously so lucky that I couldn't sleep last night, otherwise I would not have finished this chapter. That being said, I'm not promising that I'll have the next chapter ready by next Friday. I thought I could stay ahead, but writers block has been kicking my fat ass. I will try my absolute hardest to complete and post the next chapter on time, but please, don't come for me with torches and pitchforks if I don't. Thanks for reading this chapter, and feel free to comment or ask questions. They always make me feel warm and fuzzy inside! _


	9. Chapter 9

_AN: Have yet another weeks worth of desperate scrambling to finish this in time! All scrambling aside, It is a little short than usual, though not by much. And I hope it's the same quality as usual. As always, I hope you enjoy!_

OOOOO

Bilbo didn't realize he'd fallen asleep. But he was awoken fairly gently, by a soft singing. At first he didn't recognize the words, but after a few moments he realized it was Elvish. This led to the fairly obvious conclusion that it was Legolas watching over him. Which gave him a feeling of comfort, but at the same time, made him feel a little disappointed. If he was honest with himself, he wanted it to be Thorin sitting beside him, waiting for him to wake. He wanted Smaug to be wrong. He wanted Thorin to prove Smaug wrong. But it was increasing clear to him that the Dragon had not told him one single lie.

"Legolas?" Bilbo whispered, and the singing immediately stopped. When Bilbo finally accepted the fact that he should open his eyes, Legolas was the first thing he saw. The Elf was sitting beside him, looking at him expectantly, with a wide smile on his face.

"You're awake! I was worried... Do you need something? Water?" Bilbo couldn't help but let his lips quirk up at Legolas' mothering. But as quickly as it appeared, his smile was gone. He had no idea how long he had slept. But to him, it felt like mere seconds had passed since he had seen Smaug die before him. Smaug, the Dragon who had saved him from bleeding to death and then proceeded to care for him. Smaug, who was nothing like the Dwarves had portrayed him. Bilbo knew he should not feel sad for the death of a Dragon. But he did.

"Water." Bilbo murmured, his throat suddenly feeling quite dry. Legolas immediately reached for the nearby silver pitcher, and a cup. Bilbo's mind flashed with a similar scenario, and he suddenly felt the urge to find that golden cup Smaug had used to give him water. Just for sentimental reasons, really. He wondered if Thorin would let him have the cup. But, if Smaug was right, and Bilbo had no reason to assume he wasn't, then Thorin would probably laugh at him for making such a request.

Legolas balanced the cup on a level golden plate so he could help Bilbo sit up. Instantly Bilbo was reminded of the long fall he'd taken not too long ago. Throbbing pain spread all across his body, and he was certain he must have had bruises all over his back and legs. But the pain was all relatively dull, no broken bones then. But he could still feel pressure around his throat, and when he reached up, his fingers met with the smooth silver surface of the collar Smaug had put on him. The chain was much shorter now, it only dangled around his chest, but it made him whimper all the same.

"We haven't found the key yet. Balin said he would look for some metal cutters to break through it, because it's unlikely we ever will find the key in this madness." Legolas told him with a frown. "Until then, the only thing I can do to make you comfortable is apply some poultice to your bruises and under the collar, to keep it from chafing your skin." He offered.

"How long was I asleep?" Bilbo asked, rather than acknowledge the offer. He didn't want the salve. It felt wrong for him to so pathetically whine over aches and pains when Smaug was dead. There was no poultice for that. In a weird kind of way, he was glad the collar was still there to remind him of what had happened. It kept him a little grounded in his mourning because, the fact was, he should not be mourning at all. Smaug had collared him and treated him like a beloved pet. But yet Bilbo still mourned.

"A few hours. You were in shock, and Oin agreed that it would be best for you to rest for a while." Legolas explained, handing Bilbo the cup of water. The Hobbit didn't reply. He sipped at the water, the taste somewhat more metallic than it had been before. Maybe it was just because Smaug's death left a bad taste in his mouth, and a weight in his heart. He didn't want to use the word friend, but he had felt somewhat of an attachment to the Dragon. As odd and abnormal as that was.

"Where is everyone?" Bilbo finally realized after a few minutes that it was quiet, and apparently he and Legolas were the only ones in the treasury.

"Most of them have gone off to inspect the kingdom. See how much damage there is an how long it will take to rebuild. Balin and Dwalin went to the gate, to see if it's usable still. And the almighty Dwarf King is somewhere over that hill looking for the Arkenstone." Legolas said with distaste clear in his tone. Bilbo felt like a lump of lead had settled in his stomach, and the stone burned in his pocket. Should he tell Legolas? Should he tell any of them? He still wasn't sure what exactly he was going to do with the stone. He didn't just want to give it to Thorin, especially not when the Dwarf was in a questionable mental state. He was so confused.

"Has he been at it long?" Bilbo wasn't sure if he really wanted to know, but he had to ask anyways. Legolas' face told him everything he needed to know, but the Elf spoke as well.

"As soon as Smaug died, he began searching. He has not stopped yet." Legolas admitted in a whisper. "As soon as you are fit for travel, we're leaving Bilbo." Legolas added, in an even softer tone. Bilbo's face snapped towards him instantly.

"We can't just leave! My contract-"

"Bilbo, we are not arguing about this! You know that Thorin is changing, and based off what I know of the Madness of Durin's line, he is only going to get worse. I won't let anything happen you again." Legolas snarled, leaving no room for argument. Bilbo's eyes widened and watered, but he nodded, not wanting to argue anyways. Legolas sighed and cupped the Hobbit's face. "I've already let too many terrible things happen to you Bilbo. I'll be damned if I let Thorin Oakenshield hurt you."

"He wouldn't hurt me." Bilbo murmured, though it sounded weak even to him.

"I will not take that chance. Do you understand me?" Bilbo nodded, trying not to look like he was pouting. "I'm going to go find Oin. Do you think you can come with me?" Bilbo shook his head. His legs felt like jelly, and he wasn't even standing. Legolas sighed, but stood. "Stay right here then. I'll be back in a few minutes with something for your bruises." Bilbo gave half a nod as acknowledgment and watched Legolas walk away. Once the Elf was out of his sight, he looked down at his arms. The hundreds of scars stared back at him accusingly. The newest ones, though they all looked old and healed due to Smaug, were especially hard to look at.

Bilbo wondered if he should tell them about what he did. How he got captured by Smaug in the first place. But for the first time in weeks, they weren't worried about him cutting himself. At least not outwardly worried. But the longer he sat, staring at his arms and thinking about Smaug, the more his blood raced, and the more his skin itched. All things considered, it had hardly been two days since he had nearly killed himself, and he shouldn't even think of cutting himself now. But he still remembered exactly where that bejeweled dagger was, and he felt he deserved it more than ever, after everything that had happened with Smaug.

Standing warily, because his legs really did feel weak, the Hobbit turned his eye towards the pillar a good distance away. He also glanced in the direction Legolas had left in, as well as the one Thorin supposedly could be found in. When he saw nothing in any direction, except more gold and jewels, he started taking pitiful, stumbling steps towards the column. They all looked the same, the pillars, but Bilbo recognized a long crack in the particular pillar he had sat against that night. Sure enough, when he managed to reach the monolith column, he found the bloodied banner and blood encrusted dagger in the same place he left them.

Bilbo had to catch his breath for a good few minutes before he eased himself to the ground and picked up the dagger. He didn't have time at that moment, Legolas could return any second, or Thorin could catch sight of him. Instead he slid the knife into it's sheath and slipped it into his pocket. It just barely fit, and it was kind of bulky, but he doubted any of the Company would ask about it. Not when they had bigger things to worry about. Legolas was the only one Bilbo was nervous about, but the Elf usually didn't pry if Bilbo got upset, or pretended to get upset.

The banner had to go as well. If any of them found it...they would immediately be suspicious. The blood soaked into the silky material had dried, to a rusty brown color, but it was still undeniably blood. And Smaug burned his victims, there would be no blood if it was his doing. But Bilbo could hardly throw the banner out, or burn it. Instead he'd have to bury it, until suspicion was lessened. The rustling of gold as Bilbo buried the banner must have been what drew Thorin in.

"What are you doing?" Bilbo jumped and yelped in surprise, looking up from the last corner of the banner left uncovered and to the Dwarf King leaning against the pillar. Thorin smirked a little at Bilbo's shocked yell and looked expectantly at him for an answer.

"I was...looking for the Arkenstone. As is my job." Bilbo lied a little too easily, with only a bare moment of hesitation. And he knew he'd lied well, because Thorin's eyes immediately lit up.

"Earning your keep then, burglar. Good." Thorin murmured, and Bilbo expected him to walk away. But Thorin just remained there, staring at him, his eyes a little brighter than Bilbo remembered them. Like he was coming down with a fever. Thorin must have still had enough of his wits around him to realize that Bilbo was uncomfortable, because he frowned. "Continue then, Master Baggins. I've been searching for a long time, and I think I am in need of a break. You should keep the search going, while I rest."

"Of course Thorin." Bilbo murmured softly, shyly beginning to sift through the gold and jewels in front of him, maybe covering the banner as he went. The stone in his pocket felt like a lump of burning coal, a guilty accusation stamped across his forehead. But he tried to look innocent enough as he went through the magnitude of treasure before him. Thorin's eyes burned almost as much as the Arkenstone, watching his every move very carefully. It continued that way for a good few minutes before Thorin spoke again.

"I heard you were in shock, after the beasts death." There was an unpleasant sneer to the Dwarf's voice as he spoke, something that gave Bilbo a little shiver that he tried his best to hide. But Thorin was watching him far too closely to not catch it. "And I can not seem to understand just what there was to be shocked about. The Dragon died, as we always intended him to. You have seen death before on this journey, you have killed before. Why would Smaug's death shock you so?" Thorin's voice gradually dropped as he spoke, until it sounded harsh and biting and accusing. Bilbo swallowed nervously and kept his eyes on his hands, which kept sifting idly.

"Is it really so odd that a such a small, pathetic Hobbit like me would be reduced to shock after such an event? Everything that happened...who am I to say I was not in shock the entire time?" Bilbo tried to defend himself, but Thorin's eyes only narrowed. Bilbo did not know that Thorin had heard many of the conversations that he'd had with Smaug. How could he? But he was still nervous. Even more so when suddenly the Dwarf was crouching in the gold next to Bilbo and grabbing the short length of chain still attacked to that damned collar around his neck.

"His pet...that's what he called you. His little pet Hobbit that he could adore and play with and feed lies at his every whim. And you ate them all up, didn't you Hobbit? Everything he said to you, did you believe it? Am I Gold Mad Bilbo? Am I worse than the Dragon who collared you and called you Pet?" Thorin snarled, practically right into Bilbo's pointed ear, and the Hobbit whimpered, fighting the urge to pull away.

"N-No, of course I didn't believe him. He was a liar and a manipulator and he was just trying to get me to doubt you and myself so I wouldn't fight him." Bilbo whispered, too afraid to try and oppose Thorin. He would tell the Dwarf anything he wanted to know, if it meant appeasing the Madness taking root in Thorin's mind.

"And you didn't fight him. You weakly let him feed you and tell you lies, surrendering so easily to his will. Like the weak little Hobbit I always knew you were." Thorin growled, pulling on the chain so Bilbo had no choice but to bow his head. Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut and waited for something to happen. He waited for Thorin to strike him, or release him, or say more terrible things to him. But Thorin just kept him like that, uncomfortable and afraid and hurt, inside and outside. Finally, after what felt like hours, but was really only minutes, Thorin suddenly released his hold on the chain. "But you said and did what you had to do to survive. You survived a Dragon." Thorin rumbled.

Bilbo said nothing in reply. Even though it sounded like a compliment, Thorin's voice remained dark and angry when he said it. Bilbo dared not to even glance at the Dwarf King, too afraid of what he might see. How could Thorin be acting like this? How could this cold, soulless treasure be turning him into this monster? Bilbo was so very scared, and when Thorin raised his hand, Bilbo flinched, expecting a blow. Instead the big paw of a hand settled on his cheek and Thorin's thumb rubbed soothing over the soft skin beneath his eye.

"I don't blame you Bilbo...I blame the Dragon. You did what you had to." Thorin cooed, his voice so drastically different from minutes ago. Bilbo had never seen such a mood swing. "But he's dead now, and you're back where you belong. With the company. With me." Here his voice took on a more possessive tone. "Come my Hobbit, let me show you. It may assuage your lingering shock." Thorin commanded, not even giving Bilbo time to accept or reject his words. Thorin wrapped his hand around Bilbo's arm and pulled the poor quivering being after him as he quickly crossed the room. Bilbo could only stumble and slide along after him, his heart in his throat.

When Bilbo realized where they were going, what Thorin wanted him to see, he contemplated resisting. He wondered, if he pretended to pass out, if Thorin would stop or just continue to drag him along. He did not want to look at Smaug's dead body, he never wanted to see those lifeless eyes looking at him so blankly again. However there was no doubt in his mind that Gold Madness had taken Thorin. And even if it had not completely consumed him, Thorin was not the same Dwarf as the one Bilbo had come to know. This Dwarf, this cold, Mad, Dwarf, was scary. And Bilbo dared not resist him.

Thorin yanked hard on Bilbo's arm, inadvertently sending the Hobbit to the ground, on his knees, just before Smaug's snout. Bilbo kept his eyes firmly on the ground, not looking up, and he prayed that Thorin would snap out of it enough to realize he was being cruel. Of course, the Hobbit had no such luck, and after only a few seconds of his willful refusal to look at Smaug, Thorin growled low in his throat. Bilbo felt Thorin's thick, strong fingers twine in his hair and grip the golden locks for all of a second before the King pulled hard and brought Bilbo's face up so his eyes landed on Smaug's dark, dim eyes.

"Do you see my little Hobbit? He took you away from me. And now he's dead. He took my kingdom, my mountain, and my Halfling. And now I have them all back." Thorin purred darkly, once again far too close to Bilbo's ear.

"I-I see. How s-stupid of him to think he could ever keep what is rightfully yours." Bilbo choked out, hoping Thorin just wanted some kind of validation and then he would let him go. Sure enough, the Dwarf King grinned, and his harsh grip in Bilbo's hair loosened so it was just a solid presence laid on the back of his head. A silent threat that Thorin could hurt him, and would hurt him if Bilbo disagreed with him on anything. And then the hand slipped away, and Bilbo chanced a glance up at Thorin. For a moment, Thorin's eyes cleared and he looked disturbed to see Bilbo kneeling before him, before the corpse of a Dragon, but the moment passed and the glassy eyes look of madness returned.

"I must return to my search Bilbo. You should rest, Oin said you looked sickly, and I have to agree with him." Thorin sounded remarkably normal as he spoke, and it tugged unpleasantly inside of Bilbo's stomach. Thorin would never be the normal, good Dwarf that Bilbo had become fond of again. He's always be this scary, hurtful, unpredictable Dwarf. Suddenly Bilbo had no complaint about leaving with Legolas, as soon as possible.

"Yes Thorin." He said, a bit numbly actually, considering the emotions roiling around inside of him. Thorin only hummed in recognition, already wandering off to keep searching for the Arkenstone. There was no longer any doubt in Bilbo's mind regarding that subject at least. He would never see the Arkenstone in Thorin's hands. Never. But he still didn't know what to do with it, or what to do in general. He wanted to save Thorin, wanted it more than anything, but he didn't know how he could. Or if he could. Smaug had seemed pretty sure that there was nothing to be done.

There was one thing Bilbo could do, and it wouldn't absolutely help save Thorin, but it would save himself. He would leave, and maybe that would snap Thorin out of it. Still, Bilbo felt regretful, having to leave the company as well. What would become of them, under the rule of Gold Mad King?

Bilbo's mind finally caught up with itself when he realized he was still staring numbly into Smaug's eternally empty eyes. With willpower alone, it felt like, he stumbled back to where Legolas had left him, and he sat there, feeling just as empty as Smaug's eyes for a few moments before his emotions came back, crashing like a great storm inside. With a tiny smile, he compared his emotions to the Thunder Battle of the Stone Giants, but just as before, the smile hardly lasted for a few seconds before disappearing.

"Bilbo?" Legolas' quiet voice hardly even reached him through his haze of hurt, sadness, regret, and anger. The anger surprised even him, but he knew what he was angry about. He was angry that Thorin had so easily given in to the bane of his family. He was angry that Smaug had to die. He was angry that he had left on this journey in the first place. He was so angry that he did not even try to reply to Legolas. He knew already he would only upset the Elf if he tried to talk. Luckily, Legolas did not pry, only sat next to Bilbo, a jar of healing poultice in his hands for when Bilbo came back to himself. Whenever that may be.

OOOOO

Bilbo avoided Thorin, to the best of his ability, after that. It wasn't hard, what with the Dwarf constantly searching for the Arkenstone and Bilbo constantly surrounded by the Company. The objects in his pockets felt like they were burning holes right through his skin, but he did not attempt to use either. He often wondered about giving the stone to Balin, for safe keeping. Surely the elder, wiser Dwarf would know what to do with it! But he never found a good moment. As well, the he never found even a tiny moment of reprieve to use the dagger. And every minute that passed seemed to make it heavier and heavier in his pocket, begging him to use it, taunting him almost.

But the rare moments when Thorin would set his sights on Bilbo rather than the Arkenstone were always terrifying. He would always act very possessive, but depending on the day, he would be loving, or suffocating. Sometimes he yelled at Bilbo, at them all in general but mostly Bilbo. Other times he doted on the Hobbit, asking what Bilbo would like from the treasury, and if he liked a particular stone that Thorin found while searching.

It had been a good day, and that was the only reason Bilbo approached Thorin. The King had been in a better cheer than usual, and Bilbo thought he could maybe talk Thorin into eating something. It had been about a week since they'd gotten Thorin to stop searching long enough to realize he was hungry and force down a bowl of soup. The Dwarf had amazing stamina for someone who was running on empty. And he needed to eat.

So when dinner had been cooked, soup as usual, Bilbo had volunteered to climb the hills of gold and try to get Thorin to take a few moments to rest. He found the King just over the closest hill, digging obsessively for the Arkenstone, as usual. Bilbo took in a calming breath and cleared his throat to alert Thorin of his presence. The Dwarf ignored him completely.

"Thorin?" Bilbo questioned softly, and this time he was given a grunt as acknowledgment. "Thorin, you haven't eaten in a week. Dinner's just been made, why don't you come have some?" Bilbo proposed, and again was ignored. Taking another calming breath, Bilbo walked up next to Thorin. "Thorin, that's enough now, you need to rest." The Hobbit put his hand on Thorin's shoulder but the Dwarf King jerked away to continue searching.

Bilbo wasn't sure what exactly it was that allowed him to be brave enough to keep trying. Idiocy, he supposed at a later date. But Thorin needed to eat, and despite the Madness in his mind, Bilbo still cared a great deal for the Dwarf who he once called leader and friend. He didn't want to have to force feed Thorin after the King passed out from exhaustion and hunger. So he kept on trying, even raising his voice to make a point.

"Thorin Oakenshield, you need to rest! Enough searching now!" Bilbo ordered, but Thorin only snorted at him, a smirk curling up his lips. And oh that just made Bilbo more intent. The Hobbit huffed and grabbed Thorin's arm, intent on pulling the Dwarf out of the piles of gold and to the rest of the Company, even if he knew it would be a fruitless attempt. He didn't expect it to go quite so wrong though.

Bilbo didn't even see the hand that connected with jarring force against the side of his face. But he felt it. And he felt the golden trinkets that pressed into his back as he was thrown down to them with the force of the blow. A little shriek of shock and pain left his lips as he fell, and his hand immediately went to his stinging cheek. There was a dribble of blood already sluggishly running down his cheek, coming from a deep scratch that must have been cause by a ring. And the skin of his cheek was swelling up, into surely and impressive bruise. Before he could even put all the evidence together and realize that Thorin had _hit_ him, the Dwarf King was kneeling in front of him with wide, horrified eyes and a mouth agape with words that couldn't leave the tip of his tongue.

"Bilbo? Bilbo are you okay?" Legolas' voice floated over the mountain of gold, but he was met with silence. Bilbo was staring at Thorin, confusion and hurt all over his face, and Thorin was gaping at Bilbo, sorrow and worry and disbelief all over his face. Legolas, being the mothering Elf that he was, was quick to hurry over the gold and to the two smaller beings. It didn't take him long to deduce what happened. Bilbo's cheek was bright red, and bleeding, and there were tears gathering in his eyes. Thorin looked like he was an inch from crying as well, looking so small despite the fact that he was bigger than Bilbo. The Elf, furious, rushed over and shoved Thorin away before grabbing Bilbo's hand.

"L-Legolas-"

"No! We're leaving!" Legolas cut the Hobbit off before he could even try to protest. "I don't care if you are not fit for travel, I will carry you if I must!" He added when Bilbo opened his mouth to argue. Legolas didn't wait for anything else to be said, he pulled Bilbo along after him, reluctant as the Hobbit was, towards the exit. Thorin didn't even try to follow, knowing that this was what he deserved. He had struck Bilbo. He had let Gold Sickness take him, and he had hit his One! It had taken hitting the one he loved to snap him out of his Sickness, and now that it had happened, he felt guilt and resentment. He looked around himself, suddenly disgusted by the mountains of riches surrounding him. He watched Legolas and Bilbo disappear out of the treasury and into the hallway that led to the main door.

It was for the best that Bilbo leave. If he left, Thorin couldn't hurt him anymore. Never again. The cost would be letting his heart break every single day separated from the Hobbit. Normally he would be willing to bear that, if it meant Bilbo would be safe. But he was still a little Gold Mad at the moment. And the thought of being without his Hobbit was just a no go. With a growl, the King rose and followed the Elf who had taken his Hobbit. The Company, who had been attracted to the commotion and now stood at the top of the pile of gold, watched him go before exchanging glances.

"Should we do something?" Kili wondered aloud. There was a tense silence that followed his question before Balin sighed.

"I don't think there's anything we can do. Not at the moment." No one moved to follow, but they all remained there, waiting for something to happen or for someone to return.

Thorin charged after Legolas and Bilbo, and surprisingly enough, he met with them as they were headed back into the mountain. Thorin opened his mouth to say something scathing to Legolas, but was never able to get his words out. Legolas punched him, hard, right in the nose. A trickle of blood started falling and Thorin was knocked on his backside, but he knew if it weren't for his strong Dwarf bones, his nose would be broken.

"If you ever touch him again I'll cut your fucking hand off!" Legolas yelled before promptly turning and resuming his march out of the mountain, Bilbo trailing after him. The Hobbit was obviously in a mild form of shock. One hand was still pressed to his cheek, and his eyes were bright with tears and confusion. And he didn't fight as Legolas pulled him along, only looking back once. He cringed as he saw Thorin and then they were gone, out of the King's sight.

The rest of his Madness had fled with that punch, and Thorin no longer thought of following. He felt his heart shatter into a million pieces with the knowledge that he would probably never see Bilbo again. But he would not dare try and bring Bilbo back. Not when he could turn into a monster so easily. Thorin sat there, dazed and sorrowful, for so long that Balin came looking for him. The Company was all worried and they figured if there were some big contention going on, Balin would be the best at diffusing it. When the older Dwarf saw Thorin sitting there, looking lost and afraid almost, he knew something much worse than a confrontation had happened.

"Lad." Balin said simply, sitting next to the King. "What happened?" He asked, as gently as he could, which was pretty gentle. Thorin swallowed thickly, hesitantly, before looking at Balin.

"I did the one think I promised I would not do. I let the Madness take me. And I hurt him. I hurt him when I promised I never would." Thorin's voice was weak, and vulnerable, and Balin had never heart it like that before. Thorin was always strong and impenetrable, he had to be for his people. But now, sitting inside the gates of their so recently reclaimed city, Thorin looked lost. Like a wee Dwarfling in need of chastisement. Thorin wouldn't actually mind being chastised at that moment. He deserved much worse. But Balin only sighed and put his hand on Thorin's shoulder.

"We all make mistakes lad. It's hardly your fault the bane of Durin's line took hold, it took both your predecessors. Strong, good Dwarves, the both of them. Just like you Thorin. But neither of them snapped out of it, like you have."

"At what cost Balin? Bilbo is gone, my One is gone. And I cannot even be angry, because it is better that he is gone. Beyond my reach." Thorin closed his eyes against tears. He had not cried in a century, at least. He had not cried when he lost his kingdom, or his kin. He had not cried when he held his nephews for the first time. But now, losing the one he would forever love and long for, he felt the sting of tears in his eyes and he briefly contemplated letting them fall.

"You may still have him back." Balin chanced to whisper, and no sooner had the words left his lips then Thorin was staring at him with wide, pleading eyes. "Show him that you have come back to yourself. Stop searching for the stone, and help us plan for the future of the Kingdom. Renew the alliances of old, and bring Erebor back from the dead. Show him that you are Thorin Oakenshield of the House of Durin, King Under the Mountain, and not a Gold Mad Dwarf. And after some time has passed, he may come back to you. And if he does not, at least you will have the kingdom, prosperous and whole."

Thorin nodded, a little sadly, and willed the tears away. He would not cry now, not when he may not have failed yet. He would prove himself to Bilbo, and to the Elf that took the Hobbit away. He would bring Erebor back to life and offer it all to Bilbo if it meant having him back. And he would not be setting foot in that treasury again. He would not give the gold, or the Arkenstone, any chance to sway him once more. He would do this, and so much more, for Bilbo. He only hoped it wasn't too late.

OOOOO

Legolas watched Bilbo carefully from across the fire. The Elf Prince of Mirkwood had marched clear to the ruins of Dale before allowing them to stop. He had sat Bilbo down on a stable boulder and the Hobbit had stayed there for hours now, in the exact same position, the same look frozen on his face while Legolas made a fire and improvised a campsite. Luckily the house they were in still had a roof, in case of rain or snow, but it was still very chilly. There were dusty, threadbare blankets on some of the beds, the ones not covered in rubble and debris, and Legolas used them to make beds. He gave Bilbo more padding, of course, because the Hobbit was still bruised all over his back and legs.

Not that Bilbo looked even remotely interested in going to sleep. Legolas wondered if Bilbo would remain that way, still as a statue save for the deep breaths the Hobbit took, clear until morning when they moved on again. At this point, it appeared so. And if Bilbo wasn't going to sleep, then neither was he. He did not want to take any chances. Just as he was settling down for an unknown amount of time of staying away and staring at the walls, Bilbo moved.

The Hobbit still looked zoned out though as he weakly stumbled to the little nest of blankets Legolas prepared for him. He curled up, closed his glassy blue eyes, and shuddered once before going just as still as he'd been on the boulder. Legolas sighed and resolutely stayed awake for a few hours, just in case Bilbo was faking for his benefit. But inevitably, he got tired. He had been staying awake for long hours, ever since entering Erebor. He had to keep an eye on Bilbo, especially if Thorin was around, and this was the first night in weeks that Thorin was no where to be seen and Bilbo was apparently sleeping.

Almost against his will, Legolas felt his eyes slipping closed. And once they were closed, it was only moments before sleep took him. He slumped over where he was, sitting up against the wall, and that was that. Bilbo opened his eyes almost the moment Legolas fell asleep. He watched the Elf for a few moments before quietly standing and draping a blanket over his sleeping guardian. When Legolas failed to even stir in his deep slumber, Bilbo nodded resolutely and slipped out of the amazingly well preserved house.

The streets of Dale were cold and empty and ruined, filled with too many ghosts of the past. Bilbo could almost feel them, crowding around him to see what he was going to do. His stomach clenched as he walked. His cheek stung, but it was nothing compared to how his heart ached in his chest. _Thorin_...

Eventually Bilbo could walk no more. Instead he collapsed against a crumbly wall and curled up against it, his shoulders shaking as he held in his tears. He hated his tears. He hated crying. He was not going to cry, not tonight, not ever. He had something better than that. Eagerly he pulled the dagger from his pocket, his eyes greedily absorbing the sight after so long of having it nearby without being ably to use it, or even look at it.

A few flakes of blackened blood chipped off the blade as Bilbo pulled the knife from it's sheath. He wiped the blade on his pants, more dried blood coming off until it was just the blood in the indents remaining. It looked no less haunting then he remembered, his blood in the delicate design of the Dwarvish blade. And he wanted there to be more.

He was mindful as he pulled down his trousers that he was still missing a lot of blood from the last time he cut. He couldn't go overboard tonight, lest Legolas should find out. Instead he would savor each new cut to his skin, and only do enough to calm down. With that firmly in mind, he dragged the sharp edge of the blade across his leg, the skin splitting easily behind the knife. Blood rose to the surface, and gathered there for a few moments before beginning to rain down his leg, creating rivers of red before dripping down onto the ground. And Bilbo felt the weight in his heart lesson, just a little bit.

The weight continued to lesson as he made more and more fresh wounds on his legs. By the time eight lines appeared, Bilbo felt blissfully numb. He made one more, particularly deep cut, before sheathing the knife and waiting for his legs to stop bleeding. He didn't have anything to stem the flow of blood, and he wasn't going to use his trousers. But he was content enough, waiting for the blood to stop of it's own volition. It was soothing to watch, actually, the lazy flow of blood.

He actually nodded off for a few moments, only waking because of a few tumbling rocks in the the breeze. He was cold, out in the open as he was, and he was tired. So very tired. He pulled up his trousers, put his knife back in his pocket, and pathetically staggered back to the house Legolas was waiting in. He practically fell back into his makeshift bed and closed his eyes, intent of sleeping. But sleep it seemed, was intent on eluding him, and it took hours before he lost himself to unconsciousness.

OOOOO

_AN: Did I fail? I hope I didn't fail, but you can tell me if I did. Once again, I make no promises for next week, but I'll try my darndest to get the next chapter out on time. Thanks for reading, feel free to leave a comment or question!_


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